


Flannel

by Gumnut



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Avalanches, Blankets, Childhood Memories, Cold, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Loss of Parent(s), Memories, Snow, Tissue Warning, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:28:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 22,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24625519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gumnut/pseuds/Gumnut
Summary: Virgil Tracy wore flannel. No matter the climate. No matter the temperature. He wore flannel.
Comments: 29
Kudos: 44





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Flannel
> 
> Author: Gumnut
> 
> May - June 2020
> 
> Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS
> 
> Rating: Teen
> 
> Summary: Virgil Tracy wore flannel. No matter the climate. No matter the temperature. He wore flannel.
> 
> Spoilers & warnings: death of a parent, heavy emotional stuff, major tissue warning.
> 
> Timeline: Season One
> 
> Author’s note: This is one of those fics I wrote quickly in short bursts at work, at insomnia o’clock and other odd moments, so its chapters are very short.
> 
> Many thanks to the Thunderfam community for their amazing support for this fic and @tsarinatorment for a prod in the right direction, @onereyofstarlight for her advice and for listening to my crazy and @scribbles and @i-am-chidorixblossom for the same :D You guys rock.
> 
> Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.
> 
> -o-o-o-

Virgil Tracy wore flannel. No matter the climate. No matter the temperature. He wore flannel. At least when he wasn’t wearing his uniform.

This flannel came in a variety of shades, but mostly red plaid. Red is a very warm colour and he took advantage of it to not only keep warm, but to feel warm.

Visitors to Tracy Island may have commented on it; queried why he was wearing not only flannel in the tropics, but two layers with a shirt underneath. All such questions were answered with the breathability of cotton or the need for protection while working on equipment, and the topic would no doubt be changed shortly thereafter by one brother or another.

Because no one on Tracy Island ever talked about why Virgil wore flannel unless they were forced to. They all knew why he did it. The topic did not need to be brought up unless in extreme circumstances...where the need occasionally got out of control.

Today was one of those days. One of those days that gave Scott extra grey hairs and brought up memories no one wanted to remember and forced discussions on a topic no one wanted to discuss.

The trigger was obvious. Scott saw it coming and John tried to deflect the need for Virgil in this instance, but as always, Virgil was needed and he went.

The brothers would just have to pick up the mess when they got back.

It wasn’t the snow.

It wasn’t the ice.

It wasn’t the rocks.

It was the woman they recovered. The woman wrapped around her little girl. The woman who had died to protect her daughter.

Virgil is a seasoned emergency responder. He has seen it all - horrors that wake him in the night, failures, body parts and screaming victims. But everyone has their triggers and Virgil’s is an old, old one.

The frozen expression on that woman’s face...

Gordon was able to take the little girl. Virgil, still wrapped in his exo-suit stood frozen for a full thirty seconds before his brain rebooted in safe mode. As Gordon bundled the little girl up for transport, he kept an eye on his big brother. Virgil functioned on a rote level. Nothing was said. Two took off as smoothly as ever and delivered the victims to the nearest population centre.

Relay and situation check with Five and they were heading home.

Gordon excused himself from the cockpit and sent a warning to Scott who was also inbound, but from the opposite direction.

There would be soup for dinner. Grandma had hot chocolate prepared.

John was on his way down.

Virgil was oblivious.

The expression on his big brother’s face was blank as he banked Two into land. No word was said as he brought her to a stop. Fingers prodded controls automatically as she came to a smooth halt in her hangar.

Gordon faffed around attempting to look busy until he could handball Virgil to Scott.

He didn’t have to wait long, the older pilot appearing in the hangar moments later.

At that Virgil did sigh and close his eyes, his hands dropping to his sides. Gordon let the hatch down so his biggest brother could board.

Scott stepped onto Two’s deck and caught his eye. Gordon nodded and hurried past, taking that same hatch down to the hangar floor. Scott would handle the eruption. The rest of them would handle the pyroclastic flows.

-o-o-o-


	2. Chapter 2

Scott watched his brother, still sitting in his pilot seat. There were no outward signs of distress, but then Virgil was the master of emotional control. Always had been. Cool, calm, collected, reining in brothers with much more volatile temperaments on a day to day basis. Which was probably why when Virgil did crack, it was never small or pleasant.

“I’m fine, Scott.”

It was said without his brother turning to face him which negated its validity immediately.

“I never said you weren’t.”

“You’re emanating worry. I can feel it from here.”

Scott sighed and took the last few steps towards the dash and perched himself in the co-pilot’s seat, still warm from Gordon’s recent presence.

Still Virgil didn’t turn. He was simply staring out at the still open hangar door, his pallor pale. A breeze was blowing the palm trees about on the runway. Virgil’s eyes appeared fixated on them.

Scott knew that if he said anything, the result wouldn’t be pleasant. So, he got comfortable and just sat there waiting.

He was waiting a while.

Eventually, Virgil cleared his throat and, still without looking at his brother, pushed his seat back and unbuckled himself.

Scott didn’t fail to notice that his hands were trembling.

Aw, Virg.

But any unasked-for help would be refused. This was always stage one and Scott really wished his brother would give himself the time to grieve instead of attempting to push through it. But Virgil was the most stubborn of them all and diverting him from his desired path was like attempting to derail a freight train.

But Scott refused to leave him alone.

Because he knew what was coming.

The train always crashed eventually.

Virgil pushed himself to his feet and turned towards the hatchway. “The child should recover well.” There was a hitch in his voice as if there was something caught in his throat. “We were too...late...for the mother.”

“We knew going in that the chances were small, Virgil. Saving the daughter was a success.”

Virgil didn’t answer. He took the last two steps to the hatchway and Scott was forced to jump from his seat and onto the circular platform to stay with his brother.

“Scott, I’m fine!” The volume of that statement made the outright lie blatant.

“You are not fine!” Okay, so Scott’s skills in this area left much to be desired. He wasn’t Virgil. Virgil would, no doubt, have known exactly what to say in the face of the mule who wouldn’t face facts, but Scott got frustrated too quickly, worried too much, and hurt to see his brother hurting. “Virgil, it is understandable. You are allowed to react.”

“I don’t want to react!” And finally Virgil turned to face him. Dark brows were crumpled with desperate anger as if he felt that then he wouldn’t have to feel other emotions. Other emotions betrayed by the glisten in his eyes and the single tear track on his face. Recognition of what he was revealing flickered across Virgil’s face and he drew in a harsh breath, looking away again. “Please, Scott, just leave me alone.”

“No.”

-o-o-o-


	3. Chapter 3

John hit atmosphere at the usual speed, but it felt hard and fast. The elevator was performing perfectly; it was John himself that felt faulty.

He knew going in what this might mean for Virgil, but there had been no alternative.

Didn’t make it hurt any less.

“John, I’m not sure I understand.”

Lying back in the descent couch, he closed his eyes. The irony was that despite the focus being on Virgil, the ‘problem’ was more widespread than just his big brother.

They all felt it. They all remembered it. But none of them had the memories that haunted Virgil. None had that perspective.

Though he could imagine it.

“The incident recalled memories that Virgil has difficulty dealing with.”

“But the incident was a considerable time ago. As I understand it, time heals psychological injuries and memories can be forgotten.” Eos was sometimes so young.

“Not these types of memories. Sometimes the injury is so deep it can never quite heal completely.” He knew his wouldn’t. “And when family is involved, the injury can sometimes scab over only to be torn anew again and again.”

“That sounds painful.”

“It is.”

“Were you injured, John?”

“You know I was. All our family was.”

“Yet you are not reacting the same way as Virgil. Neither are your brothers. Gordon was there with Virgil. He saw the same situation.”

“Gordon was too young to remember the incident clearly.”

“Not according to childhood development milestones. He should remember.”

John sighed as the elevator began to slow, its rockets firing. “He does remember, but his injury is different.”

“Please explain.”

“Eos...I...I will explain later. Another time.” He needed to shore up his own shields. The next hours were likely to be difficult.

The elevator made its attitude adjustment as it lined up with Tracy Island and its port into the hangar. John ran his fingers over the calculations and mentally checked the autopilot and confirmed docking coordinates.

“Very well, John. I look forward to that discussion.”

He didn’t. But it was necessary. Eos had the right to know.

A hiss of thrusters and the elevator was swallowed by the Island, coming to a smooth halt as the mooring claw clunked into place and took grip on the planet.

Stepping out into the cool air of the hangar was the stimulation it always was. Damp, cold rock and a hint of the fuel mix the Thunderbirds used was carried on the circulating air. It was a familiar smell, but striking after the sterility of home. The scent of unbridled life mixed with technology was Tracy Island defined.

Alan met him on the gangway. Of all the five brothers, Alan was the one with no memory of the incident, yet it left him far from uninjured. The fact John was wrapped in a hug the moment he was close enough was proof.

Alan didn’t say anything. He just lay his head on John’s chest, his hair getting caught in gold baldric.

John wrapped his arms around his little brother. “Alan?”

“Virgil’s upset.”

“Understandably.”

“I’ve never seen him like this before.”

John blinked. That was a distinct possibility. The last time the issue had surfaced, Alan had been away at school.

“He will be okay.” But in the back of John’s mind a worry took root. What didn’t he know? “Where is Scott?”

Alan looked up at him. “With Virgil. They’re screaming at each other in Two’s hangar.”

John stared at Alan a moment before slipping from his arms and breaking into a run.

-o-o-o-


	4. Chapter 4

Gordon didn’t quite make it out of the hangar. It was worry that did it. Brotherly concern. But it was also questions. He had been young, but he remembered the effects, remembered the grief and the absences. Is this what Virgil had seen? The frozen expression on that woman’s features? Or was it something worse.

There had been fear on the victim’s face, but also determination. She had shielded her little girl with her life. Just as their mother had protected Virgil.

But Virgil had been older. Barely fifteen. Only a little younger than Alan was now. The thought was horrifying.

His thoughts were interrupted by Two’s hatch lowering. Both his brothers stepped onto the concrete before the metal touched it.

Gordon slipped behind some crates - supplies for Two that hadn’t made it on board before they were called out.

“Scott, I am fine!” Virgil’s voice was sharp and echoed across the cavern.

“You are not fine!” Scott stepped in front of his brother and stood firm, blocking Virgil from the hangar exit.

Gordon rubbed a hand over his face. Well, shit.

As if hearing Gordon’s thoughts, Scott lowered his voice. “It is understandable, Virgil. You’re allowed to react.”

“I don’t want to react!” And the expression on Virgil’s face tore Gordon’s heart out. “Please Scott, just leave me alone.” He tried to shove past, but Scott blocked him again.

“No.”

Virgil stared at their eldest brother, his expression flickering between anger and a horrifying mask of grief.

“Virgil-“

“Why?!” And something broke in his brother like a snapping twig. It was almost audible. The anguish in Virgil’s eyes was pain itself. His shoulders hunched up and his hands curled into claws. “Why, Scott?”

“Because you’re my brother and you don’t deserve to go through this alone.”

“Deserve?!” It was snarled. “How do you know what I deserve?!” He thrust out a hand towards Two. “Do you think that woman deserved to die? That that girl deserved to lose her mother?”

“No, of course not!”

“That she deserved to live when her mother didn’t?!” His brother was shaking where he stood, barely controlled emotion in every line.

“Virgil-“

“You asked! Though I don’t know why because you were there!” His voice broke. “God, Scott, you were there! You know what happened! You know why Mom died, yet you keep poking and prodding! Goddamnit! LEAVE ME ALONE!”

“No! You’re not doing this to yourself! It wasn’t your fault!”

“Scott-!!”

“NO! It wasn’t your fault! It was Mom’s choice, not yours. She chose to sacrifice her life so you could live!”

“Yeah?! Well, it was the wrong choice!” Those dark eyes were ever so haunted. “She should have saved herself!”

-o-o-o-


	5. Chapter 5

Scott stared at Virgil, stunned incredulous. “You can’t mean that.”

Tear-filled eyes over trembling lips. “I do. I see you guys without her.” A wet swallow and Virgil looked away. “Alan who never knew her, Gordon who barely remembers her. You and John. Do you have any idea what it is like to know that you lost her because of me? To see you hurting and know that I’m the one responsible?”

Scott couldn’t find the words. He just kept staring.

“And Dad.” Virgil’s voice dropped to a whisper. “It almost killed him. He couldn’t look at me and I don’t blame him.”

This was new. This had never come up before. How had he missed it? How had he not known? Virgil had nightmares. Virgil shivered in the afternoon heat, kept himself wrapped in flannel because he hated the cold, because he needed to feel warm. But not this. Never this.

Scott opened his mouth, but they were suddenly interrupted by John exiting the elevator, Alan behind him.

Gordon appeared from nowhere.

Virgil startled and took a step back, eyes fearful. No, don’t you dare. Scott reached out to grab his brother, but Virgil’s eyes widened and he stumbled back further, out of reach.

Another tear ran down his face. “No. I-“

He was going to run. Scott could feel it in his bones.

He couldn’t let that happen.

Voice calm and quiet, the opposite of what he felt. “John, manoeuvre nine.”

Virgil’s eyes widened into full panic as his four brothers automatically shifted into position around him. Designed to stop a rescuee from endangering themselves and others, manoeuvre nine aimed to capture.

Virgil was stronger than all of them. Rumour had it he could lift all his brothers at once and then some. They had never tested the theory and this was definitely not the time. Scott was relying on Virgil being Virgil.

Virgil being the gentle soul they all knew him to be.

Brown eyes darted from brother to brother, desperate for a way out.

“Mom loved you, Virgil. She was your mother as much as ours.” A swallow. “She made the right choice.”

Those eyes latched onto Scott. “How can you say that? She had you. Four of you. She gave you all up for just me.” A hitch in his voice, almost a sob. “I took her from you just because I wanted to take that stupid photo.”

“You didn’t know!” This was familiar territory. Guilt and regret. Virgil still blamed himself for why they were on that mountain. “How could you have possibly known?”

“All the signs were there! Avalanche-“

“You didn’t know, Virgil! You were fifteen! Fifteen! You went for a walk with Mom to take some photographs. How many people have we pulled from the snow for similar reasons? How many were to blame?” He took a step closer to his brother. “It happened, Virgil. It hurts, yes, but Mom would not have it any other way. She would have done it for any of us, but she did it for you. She did it for her son.” A few steps closer with every word. “Because she loved you.” A breath. “Just as we do.”

And he was within reach. Another step and Scott was gently pulling his not-so-little brother into his arms.

There was no resistance.

Virgil was trembling with tension. Fingers caught in black hair and Scott drew his head down to rest on his shoulder.

The shaking only increased.

Scott held him tighter.

Until finally, finally the first sob. “She looked just like Mom.” A whispery, broken sound. “Just like Mom.”

Soft circles on the nape of his neck. “I know. I know.”

And Virgil broke down in great heaving sobs, clinging to his brother as if his life depended on it.

-o-o-o-


	6. Chapter 6

Alan never knew his mother. He had always been kind of envious of his older brothers for their knowledge of this mysterious woman who looked and acted a lot like Virgil, laughed like Gordon, and smiled like John. Family videos and photographs could only show so much. He wasn’t in most of them. He only had one year with his Mom before the incident with Virgil took her away.

And he didn’t remember any of it.

His brothers and even his father had tried to compensate over the years, and Alan appreciated it, but there would always be a hole where his Mom should be. Nobody could fix that.

Of course, he was aware of Virgil’s problems. He knew about his brother’s need to keep warm, the unspoken agreement to not mention it, but make sure the heating was working on those rare days the weather dipped in temperature. Alan was pretty sure Virgil was one of the reasons their father had chosen the tropics for their base.

Even Alan could remember the temperatures kept up in the farmhouse in the middle of the Kansas winter.

Virgil was stoic about it, not mentioning it any more than anyone else. He managed and if their bear of a brother over-dressed from time to time, that just made him more cuddly.

Warm flannel against his cheek in the worst of moments was a comforting memory repeated many times.

He may not have a Mom, but he had his brothers. He had Scott and Virgil and John and Gordon.

Gordon had tears in his eyes.

Late at night, back when he was little and shared a room with his fish brother, he would ask questions he couldn’t ask his eldest brothers and Gordon would share his memories. They were shady and few. Gordon had only been six, but he had been old enough. He remembered dark hair, warm brown eyes, a laugh.

The day it all happened.

Tales of Dad crying in Grandma’s arms. Virgil in hospital. Sixteen-year-old Scott in pieces and trying to hold them all together.

The funeral.

Mom’s favourite flower had been daisies.

Virgil often painted daisies.

Scott held Virgil for a long time.

Alan got antsy, not sure if he should be here or not. This was big brother territory and to be honest it hurt like hell to watch. But a soft sound to his left and he found Gordon shifting where he stood, a tear tracking down one cheek.

Alan broke formation and hurried over. Whispered. “Gordy.”

Embarrassed brown eyes caught his and Alan didn’t hesitate, wrapping his arms around his fish brother.

His uniform was still grimy and smelt of dirt and sweat, but Alan didn’t care. Gordon’s arms slowly returned the hug, but nothing was said.

Alan became aware of John’s eyes latching onto them.

Virgil was still sobbing, but he was quieter and Scott’s voice was a litany of reassurance. Alan appreciated it ever so much.

He hadn’t been lying when he told John he had never seen Virgil like this before. He had initially come down to the hangars to meet Gordon to get the lowdown on what had happened, but then Virgil had been yelling at Scott and John had been on approach.

Virgil never yelled like that. The pain and vulnerability had cut to the bone.

Alan blinked rapidly as one brother sniffled in his arms and another not far away started apologising through a clogged nose. Scott admonished every word.

“I’m okay, Allie.” Little more than a hoarse whisper.

Alan looked up as Gordon straightened, a hand wiping the moisture from his face.

He let him go.

But the knot in his own throat didn’t go away.

John took several steps until the three of them were standing together. John towered over the both of them. Alan always forgot how tall his space brother was.

A hand landed gently on his shoulder as the other landed on Gordon’s. Space-rated gloves squeezed gently.

A gust of strong breeze kicked up through the open hangar door.

Alan found himself blinking again. Why was the door still open?

He swallowed, desperately attempting to keep himself together. This wasn’t about him. It was about Virgil.

But Virgil really was the Mom he never had. Where Scott was his father figure, the one he looked up to for direction and guidance, Virgil was the one who stepped in when he was feeling down, the one who brought him hot chocolate when he was sick, the one who answered major life questions like where did Gordon stash his marshmallows? Virgil always had an ear, a kind word and flannel hugs.

Flannel.

He didn’t notice the first tear, but the second was accompanied by a sob loud enough to have Scott turning in his direction. Blue eyes widened before drooping under crumpling brows.

But it was Virgil’s wet, red-rimmed eyes that caught Alan’s. A moment of horror, followed by fear, embarrassment and then simply sorrow.

He stepped away from Scott, his movements lacking his usual confidence, hands shaking.

A stride of blue and Alan found himself crushed up against green baldric. A glove in his hair and so many mumbled words of reassurance. Gordon was suddenly there. And John. Scott was saying something, and he was surrounded by brothers.

Virgil’s uniform fabric wasn’t as soft as flannel, nor as warm, but it was still Virgil and he found himself crying anyway.

Alan didn’t have a mom, but he did have a Virgil and he loved him ever so much.

-o-o-o-


	7. Chapter 7

It fell to Scott and John.

And it was odd because this kind of thing usually fell to Virgil. The medic was always the one chasing up their mental health, corralling brothers who had seen too much, brothers who needed hugs, words or simply a presence.

But Virgil was a mess, holding a crying Allie and mumbling reassurances Scott wasn’t sure the man even believed himself at the moment.

Gordon also had an excellent mental health radar but he was more likely to prank the sufferer or walk into a room wearing a purple wig and a red nose just to get a smile. There were no smiles now. The fish was barely holding it together clinging to Virgil and Alan, attempting to reassure both of them.

So, it was left to Scott and John.

It was a wordless agreement. Scott took Virgil. John took Alan and Gordon.

A gentle nudge broke the group hug apart. Scott wrapped an arm around Virgil’s shoulders and urged him towards the elevator. His brother didn’t protest, his body wilting.

A soft word to Alan, the briefest of hugs and a promise.

Virgil’s eyes didn’t leave the youngest the entire way out.

The last Scott saw of Alan, as the elevator doors closed, was reddened blue eyes staring in their direction as his space brother embraced him.

His heart lurched.

But one brother at a time.

Then followed a supervised hot shower, a fresh set of clothes including the reddest flannel Scott could find.

Soft reassurances.

Quiet presence.

Silence.

Scott watched his brother rebuild himself. Virgil was a strong man in more ways than the physical. Scott relied on his brother’s mental strength every day. It supported his command. It supported their family.

By the time he emerged from the shower, the red was gone from his eyes leaving only strain. He was quiet. Didn’t say a thing as Scott handed him his shirt.

His silent expression said everything. The struggle was there but the love was there, too. As he threw on his shirt and finished buttoning it up, he grabbed Scott and clung to him for a moment.

Nothing was said, But Scott could feel his brother scrunching up his face against his shoulder.

Scott squeezed him even tighter.

-o-o-o-

Alan clung to John as he saw Gordon to his shower. There were questions. So many questions. Many of which John felt poor to answer.

What happened on that mountain?

What did Mom do?

Why did Virgil think he should have been the one to die?

That last cut deep and John had to reach for extra strength to hold his expression stable. Now was not the time to examine his own fears.

While Gordon showered, John sat with his little brother and told the story...as he knew it.

They had been on holiday in the snow. Dad went into the city to meet with the Mayor as there was a Tracy Industries development planned for the area - the main reason why the family had chosen to holiday there.

Virgil wanted to go and take photographs of the scenery. He had an idea for an art project. Mom wasn’t happy for him to go alone out onto the mountain, so she left the other brothers with sixteen-year-old Scott for what had been planned to be little more than fifteen to twenty minutes.

John told him of how she didn’t come back. How Scott became frantic after an hour and attempted to call Dad. How Dad hadn’t answered. How Scott had reacted, worried sick and trying again and again until his father did answer, only to turn up pale as a ghost, hardly able to speak.

How Virgil ended up in hospital with a broken leg, concussion and a horrified stare.

How their mother didn’t.

How his big brother hardly spoke for months and could never get warm. The mental health appointments that never seemed to make any progress.

How they lost their father for a year as he disappeared into work to hide from his grief.

How he shied away from Virgil for long after that.

How Scott and Grandma held the family together.

How the family didn’t hold together.

How they got through it all eventually and how International Rescue was born.

Alan knew all this in theory, but perhaps it was worth repeating.

“But why would Virgil say that he should have died, not Mom?” It was a plead for answers.

Quiet. “I don’t know, Allie. He is upset. Maybe seeing that victim today...” No, don’t go there. “...I don’t know.”

But blue eyes pinned him. “What?”

“I don’t know why, Alan.”

“But you’re thinking of something, aren’t you.” Alan’s frown was accusatory.

“John doesn’t know, Allie.” Gordon stepped into the room, his hair still wet, but his familiar Hawaiian shirt in place. The complete lack of humour on his brother’s face was like a cloud over the sun and ever so wrong. “Virgil is upset. You weren’t there today.” A swallow. “It was bad.”

“I know it was bad. I saw his reaction. The screaming kinda gave it away. But what isn’t he telling us? What really happened to Mom?”

-o-o-o-


	8. Chapter 8

Scott postponed debrief. He bundled up Virgil and threw him into bed despite the fact it was the middle of the afternoon. Gordon disappeared into the pool. Alan attached himself to John and followed him around the villa.

John didn’t seem to mind.

Scott went back to Thunderbird Two.

She was empty without Virgil. Her cockpit silent and a little echoey without his bear of a brother’s presence. Subtle reminders of exactly whose ‘bird she was were everywhere. The neatly handwritten sign stuck above the controls in the co-pilot’s seat that ordered Gordon to keep his feet off the dash. The wear on the pilot’s seat where Virgil’s shoulder-mounted laser rubbed on the upholstery.

The dirty footprints left behind by specialised, high traction boots.

Scott sighed.

And began cleaning up.

Virgil kept his ‘bird spotless. Scott couldn’t help but help.

And the mundane task let his mind work over today’s events.

Scott cursed that he hadn’t been able to be there. Scott cursed that Virgil had had to go at all. Sure, he and John knew how bad it could get, but they had not expected it to get this bad. In the past there had been rugs and over worked thermostats, a quiet brother, a few angry words forced out by the necessary prodding and hugs. Lots of hugs. Virgil was a very tactile man and Scott loved him dearly.

But nothing like this.

The horror in his brother’s eyes, the pain in his voice as he screamed at him.

What had happened out on that ice field today that changed things?

Wiping up mud off the deckplates, Scott scrubbed just that bit harder. John reported that Virgil had frozen. Gordon hadn’t given his report yet. He needed time and Scott was willing to give it to him.

God, this just hurt.

His own memories of the incident so long ago were such that he had no wish to dwell on them. The total absence of his mother, the need to call his father, Dad in shock, Virgil ever so white against hospital bed sheets.

That scar in the middle of his brother’s forehead, still red and raw, a symbol of all the scars he held beneath the surface.

It was enough to make a grown man cry.

Scott found himself blinking and the cockpit blurring.

Goddamnit.

He sat back on his heels and dragged in a stabilising breath.

He remembered the trust in his mother’s eyes as she left with his brother. Alan had been asleep. Gordon playing with his toy animals. Hell, he even remembered the order of the cartilaginous fish versus the bony fish war his little brother had lined up on the floor. How the hell Gordon had even known the word ‘cartilaginous’, Scott had no idea.

Twelve-year-old John had been buried in his tablet.

His sixteen-year-old self had felt responsible and kept an eye on all of them, waiting for Mom to come back.

She never did.

That young self, buried deep in a fully grown man in his thirties, wailed at the injustice. Those brown eyes, so like his brother’s, so kind, so smart, so his Mom.

And he was blinking again.

Clean the damn ‘bird.

He returned to scrubbing.

Until the deckplates shone.

-o-o-o-


	9. Chapter 9

The pool wasn’t enough.

Gordon was pretty sure that he had either clocked or beaten his personal best for laps in the last two hours and still his brain was spinning in circles.

The expression on his brother’s face.

The expression on the dead woman’s face.

The imagined expression on his dead mother’s face.

Gordon’s fist formed mid stroke and hit the surface of the water, pushing his pace and balance off count and tipping him sideways.

He let it.

His momentum spun him in a slowing arc around the length of his body, flipping him upside down.

He stared at the surface of the water.

And let himself sink.

Light flickered as the surface retreated.

His muscles burned despite the cool encapsulating him. He drifted until his body was floating just above the bottom.

What was it about family that defied healing? Gordon had seen and done things he was quite happy to forget forever. Sure, he never did and they surfaced on occasion, but not like the horrors that had happened to his family.

Family horrors that had happened to him.

Mom.

Dad.

Perhaps it was his deepest fear that one day something similar might happen to one of his brothers.

He frowned up at the surface and it rippled with colour.

Virgil was hurting and, in turn, it hurt everyone. Grandma was fretting. He had done his best to reassure her that Virgil would be okay, that Scott had him in hand and that he just needed a little time.

He’d had to beg her to stay away. Be it the parental or the medical need to check on the second eldest the moment she found out he was distressed. If Scott hadn’t appeared and reported that Virgil was asleep, there would have been no stopping her.

Scott took her aside and whatever he said had their grandmother pale and returning to the kitchen silent.

It hurt.

And it was proof this wasn’t over.

Debrief was still to come.

Dread wasn’t a strong enough word.

The colours of the surface changed and were suddenly interrupted by a body crashing through it. A fish-like John swooped down on him and grabbed an arm. Gordon startled.

What?

But he didn’t have a chance to react before that grip became steel and dragged him up through the water and up through the surface, the tropical hair cooling his face as his hair dropped into his eyes.

“What?!”

“Gordon?”

“Yeah, what?!”

“Are you okay?”

Another voice interrupted. A deeper voice. “Gordon?” Scott was standing at the edge of the pool, his brow creating canyons on his forehead. Alan hovered behind him, worry in his eyes.

“What?!”

“You okay?”

He shook the hair off his face. One hand was still in John’s strangely strong grip and the other was keeping him stable. “Yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?”

John glared at him. “You were motionless at the bottom of the pool for over three minutes.”

A blink. “So? I can hold my breath for five or did you forget the whole aquanaut thing?” He stared at his red-haired brother and realised the man was still fully dressed. “Wow, good save though, bro.”

John glared, let out a breath and released his arm.

Scott was less willing to let it go. “You’ve been in this pool for hours.”

“Yeah? So? Where have you been?”

Scott’s lips thinned to a line.

Okay, so don’t tell me. “How’s Virgil?”

“Still asleep.”

“You checked?”

John answered that one. “Eos is monitoring.”

Okay.

There was silence for a moment. No one seemed to know what else to say.

It was annoying. Gordon blew out a breath between his teeth and threw himself over to the side of the pool. A heave of his shoulders and he was out, water running off him in streams. The concrete was warm after a day in the sun and the heat crept through the soles of his feet. “Let’s get this over with.” He grabbed his towel off a lounger.

“What?”

“Debrief, Scott. That’s what you want, isn’t it? To know exactly what happened out there that resulted in this shit fest.”

“Virgil-“

“Uh, no.” Gordon held up his hand and began walking towards the kitchen. “There is no way you’re putting Virgil through this. I was there, I’ll report. We’ll do all the paper work. Job complete.” He shoved the towel over his head and rubbed his hair into a non-dripping mess. He looked back. “Are you coming?”

Scott’s brain appeared to be working several beats slower than usual. His big brother blinked. Lips tight, he nodded once.

John was busy looking like a drenched rat.

“You might want to get changed, Johnny.”

That turquoise glare stabbed at him, but Gordon ignored it. “See you all in there in fifteen. I need to find some clothes.”

He actually made it to the comms room in ten, so he was the one who found Virgil wrapped up in a blanket huddled on the couch.

Wary, voice soft. “Hey, Virg. I thought you were asleep.”

“I wasn’t.” Virgil’s voice was rough and ever so tired.

“I thought John had sicced Eos on you.”

“He did.” Virgil cleared his throat and pulled the blanket around himself tighter. “Eos and I have an understanding.”

They did?

Virgil closed his eyes a moment. “Where is everyone? I thought you were going to have a debrief.”

Some understanding. “Uh, yeah. You don’t have to...you know...”

Tired brown eyes looked at him, so much sorrow in their depths. “Yes, I do.” He cleared his throat again, eyes blinking rapidly. “I have something to tell you.”

“About Mom.”

-o-o-o-


	10. Chapter 10

Virgil could not get warm.

He had his usual two layers, a jacket and a woollen blanket wrapped around himself and he was still shivering. The medic in the back of his head was throwing concepts like ‘psychological’ and ‘shock’ at him, but he was ignoring it.

Two words from Gordon on comms and the rest of his brothers appeared as if like magic. John, oddly, was shirtless, all pale skin and wet hair. Curiosity spiked in the back of Virgil’s mind but he didn’t have the energy to ask. His brother threw on a Trek t-shirt so old Spock’s ears had worn off and Kirk had moustache where the transfer had torn.

Virgil eyed it as his brother strode across the room. It let his brain focus on something other than what was slowly consuming it.

He didn’t fail to notice the worry on all their faces. Gordon hadn’t left him since he discovered Virgil sitting there. He had plonked himself down on the centre table opposite his brother. His eyes tracked John as he entered, followed by Alan and finally Scott, who immediately sat down beside Virgil and asked why he was out of bed.

“I’m not sick, Scott.”

“You’re shaking like a leaf.”

“I’m cold.”

Gordon piped up at that. “I don’t think that is physically possible with that much clothing and the blanket and the ninety plus degrees outside.”

Virgil didn’t answer. He just pulled the blanket tighter.

“Gordon, grab the medkit. I need the scanner.”

“FAB.”

“Oh, for goodness sake, Scott. I’m physically fine. You know that.”

“No, I do not. I need to check you out.”

An exasperated breath. “Fine.” Virgil threw the blanket off.

And immediately wished he hadn’t. The lack of its weight increased his shivering. He had to grit his teeth to stop them from chattering. Shit.

Scott swore under his breath and grabbing the blanket, wrapped it securely around Virgil’s shoulders again. Scott pulled him in tight against his side as Gordon skidded back into the sunken lounge with the kit and handed him the scanner.

Its light lit up the back of Virgil’s eyelids and he realised he had closed his eyes and slumped against his brother. He should sit up, but he found himself too tired to care.

Scott’s shoulder shifted under his cheek as his brother waved the scanner over him.

Virgil didn’t even bother to open his eyes. “Told you there was nothing wrong with me.”

The grunt from his big brother was soft, but the medical device stopped its glare. “Both your heart rate and temperature are up.”

“But not outside the acceptable range.”

Another grunt.

“I am physically fine.”

Scott didn’t answer, but his arm tightened around him even more and finally Virgil found a little warmth. His shivering mostly stilled and he curled up beside his brother, desperate for the relief.

Until the image shoved itself into his mind’s eye once again and he was forced out of comfort and started shaking again.

He didn’t whimper, but he felt like it.

“What is it?” Scott’s voice was a soft rumble.

“Mom.” His voice was little more than breath and he swallowed. A moment and he was forcing himself upright.

“Virg-“

“I need to tell you something.”

Silence greeted that statement.

Virgil cleared his throat, pulling the blanket even tighter. He didn’t want to do this, but his brothers deserved the truth. He forced it out. “Mom didn’t die saving me. She died because I couldn’t save her.”

-o-o-o-


	11. Chapter 11

“What?” The word fell from Scott’s lips.

The images swirled about in Virgil’s head. “Elena Christos.” That was her name. Greek descent. Three children including the four-year-old girl Gordon had pried from her cold, dead arms. Her eyes still stared at him.

Stared.

In that same determined way his mother had as she let go.

“Virgil.”

He had squeezed his eyes shut. He forced them open to find worried blue staring at him.

“I wasn’t strong enough.”

Scott’s frown deepened. “It was an avalanche, Virgil, nothing was stopping it.”

Virgil shook his head and looked down. “No. No. We climbed out. Mom saw it coming. We were right at the edge. She pushed me ahead and we climbed up.”

Scott was still staring.

The words started tumbling out. “We...we got caught in a ravine, but we had time. We made it most of the way up the cliffside before it hit.”

But it had hit hard. The roar was an all-consuming living thing and the white...the glaring white...

He pulled the blanket so tight, its weave warped under the strain. Gordon was suddenly sitting next to him on the other side from Scott. John was perched on the table with his arm around Alan.

Virgil cleared his throat. “I made it to a ledge. Mom was behind me, urging me on. The avalanche hit and it was...everything.”

The roar blinded him, the white silhouetted his mother below. Her mouth said something but he couldn’t hear. She reached up a hand.

A tumbling broken tree swiped her legs and she began to fall.

Virgil screamed as he grabbed at her, his fingers wrapping around hers.

He tried to pull her up.

But he wasn’t strong enough.

And his body began to move, sliding off the edge.

No.

No.

No! He scrabbled for purchase but there was nothing to hold onto. Fingernails bloodied as he scraped at the rock.

He was slipping.

He looked at his mother and time froze.

The expression on her face.

Proud.

Sad.

Desperate.

Loving.

She let go.

No.

No.

No!

MOM!

But she was gone.

The roar was everything.

“Virgil?”

Everything.

“Virgil!”

There was an arm around him and he was shaking. He blinked, hitched in a breath and tried to get himself under control. “Sorry.”

The arm tightened.

John’s voice. “But Dad said they found you with Mom.”

He looked up to see turquoise eyes questioning.

“I fell in.”

Those eyes widened.

“The cliff was fragile, covered in scree. I tried to clamber down slope after Mom, and I fell.” He didn’t remember anything after that. Just the white, the trees and nothing.

There was silence. The only sounds were the birds seeking roost for the evening and the distant waves.

His throat ached. “Until today...Elena...Christos...” That expression in those frozen open eyes. The grief welled up again and, like the avalanche all those years ago, swept him away.

-o-o-o-


	12. Chapter 12

Scott stared at his little brother’s bowed head trying to reconcile the events as he knew them with the events Virgil described.

A glance at John and Alan found shock on their faces. Alan had tears in his eyes again.

Gordon was looking down at his brother. At some point his arm had crept around Virgil’s back below Scott’s arm. Gordon was murmuring soft words in his ear.

Virgil did not respond.

The thought of his little brother prone and desperate on some cliffside...Dad said they were found at the mouth the valley they had been walking through. Virgil had been the fortunate one, his father said. His body had only been half buried, while his mother had been below, smothered in ice.

The theory was that they had been swept away together, but Mom had pushed Virgil to the surface before the flow had solidified around them.

Virgil, concussed and traumatised, claimed to remember nothing.

Nothing.

The pain in Scott’s heart attempted to strangle him.

“C’mon, Virg, talk to me.” Gordon’s voice was suddenly desperate and Scott was forced to push aside his own reaction and attend to his brother.

Virgil had gone silent.

“Virgil?” Scott squeezed his shoulders.

No response.

For a matter of incredibly long seconds, Scott had thoughts of something psychologically serious bouncing through his mind. Psychologically incapacitating.

But then Virgil sat up. He glanced at Scott and those dark eyes were red-rimmed before turning away to look at Gordon, then John and Alan.

“I’m sorry.” It was parched and desolate.

“For what?” John straightened and clear turquoise pinned Virgil where he sat. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I should have-“

“What exactly? What do you think a fifteen-year-old could have done in those circumstances?”

“I should have saved Mom!”

“You couldn’t.” The words fell from Scott’s mouth unbidden. “And she knew it. She made the choice. This doesn’t change anything, Virgil. She still did what she had to do.”

Soft brown eyes, so like the mother they mourned, stared up at him. A flashback to a much younger Virgil lying in a hospital bed and he grabbed his brother dragging him into an awkward embrace, burying his face in his hair.

Muffled. “And I’m so glad she did. Otherwise we would have lost you, too.” The thought terrified him. To not only lose his mother, but Virgil as well. To not have his solid brother standing beside him when they lost their father. To not have him always there to temper him, reassure him, keep him sane.

To not have him there at all.

His arms tightened involuntarily and he squeezed his eyes shut.

Mummified by the blanket, Virgil just wilted against him.

But the shaking had stopped.

-o-o-o-


	13. Chapter 13

John watched as his brothers held each other. Beside him, Alan was mirroring them, curled up under his arm, yet struggling at the same time to compose himself.

It hurt.

The whole thing hurt.

Gordon was caught between staring at his eldest brothers and darting John questioning looks as if unable to work out what he should do.

There was one thing John wanted clarified. But he had to wait until Virgil awkwardly broke away from Scott, his eyes opening wearily. A breath of thank you and uncharacteristic hesitancy.

Scott didn’t fully let him go, an arm still around his back and blue tracked his every movement, but Virgil did turn to Gordon only if to receive a massive hug from the smaller man as everything in his eyes was fed into his biceps.

Their little brother squeezed Virgil enough to force a grunt from his brother. “Breathing is mandatory, Gords.” It was strangled out, but the flicker of emotion that danced across Gordon’s face followed by the smallest of smiles proved to John that the hug had been tactical and successful.

John’s arm tightened just that increment more around Alan.

A few more strangled sounds from Virgil and Gordon let him go. Gordon’s soft ‘love you, bro’ as they separated was barely heard.

It was John who Virgil turned to next. His big brother’s eyes were more vulnerable that he had ever seen them.

“What do you want to know, John?” Ever so tired.

“How long have you known this?”

A slow blink and a swallow. “Fragments, since the last avalanche, but not the full story. Not until...today.” Those brown eyes looked away and deep into memory. “I knew Mom had saved me, but I couldn’t remember how. Elena...” Another swallow and John regretted asking at all as the sadness welled again. “Elena looked just like Mom. She...had the same determination on her face, the same...love.” Virgil’s voice broke on the last word, regret and pain crumpling his expression.

“Virgil.” He had to draw his brother out. “You did everything you could.”

“But it wasn’t enough.”

“You can’t save everyone.” It was a rescue mantra and it did exactly what John wanted it to do, snapping Virgil back to reality and reason before he could fall into despair.

He drew in a ragged breath, his eyes struggling. “God.” And despite the grief on Virgil’s face, John could see the delineation between the devastated brother and the seasoned first responder.

“You’ve got us, bro. You’ve always got us.” Gordon was still attached to his brother, as was Scott, who was oddly silent, despite his eyes not leaving Virgil for a second.

Virgil’s lips clamped shut as if they needed to hold emotion in and he nodded.

Beside John, Alan let out a muffled sound and broke away, almost leaping off the table to take out the distance between himself and Virgil, barrelling into his brother.

Still mummified in his blanket, Virgil had no way to balance himself and went down under a pile of sixteen-year-old with a loud oomph.

Gordon squawked as his arm was wrenched in the wrong direction, but Scott managed to catch the both of them as Virgil toppled onto him. Whether he wanted to or not, the eldest ended up with his arms full of two brothers.

None of them seemed to mind.

Gordon shrugged and added himself to the pile, eliciting a grunt from Scott who was at the bottom. Blue eyes caught John coupled with the faintest of smiles. The astronaut stood slowly, calmly stepped to the lounge, and sat down beside the pile of Tracy.

If his hand made contact with one brother or another, he wasn’t ashamed to admit he needed it as much as they did.

-o-o-o-


	14. Chapter 14

Scott kept an eye on his younger brother those first couple of days after the avalanche incident. Although quieter than usual, the engineer went about his daily tasks efficiently. There was a lack of piano which was a concern, but the man did disappear into his studio several times, leaving the door locked. Scott could only hope this meant he was working through it.

In any case, Scott nudged the others to fill in and go easy on Virgil during missions as much as possible.

Until Virgil realised what he was doing and tore him a new one.

Thunderbird Two operated as per norm after that shouting match.

But perhaps it was the shouting match that reassured Scott that his brother was going to be okay. It was a familiar argument, words tossed back and forth in that brotherly sense that didn’t rip out body parts like hearts and lungs. Virgil made his point and was put back on the roster.

Scott still had questions and concerns, of course, but he made his enquiries more subtle.

Virgil wasn’t the only brother to worry about either. This had affected them all.

Alan approached him first. Hard back from a mission, still in a uniform reeking of the cold of space, he casually dumped himself on the edge of Dad’s desk. He had a small rock in his hand and was rolling it around in his palm. A blink and Scott realised it had to be a space rock of some kind.

“Where did you get that?”

“Space.” The rock was bounced up and down several times.

“Figured that. Where and why?”

“The culprit that crippled today’s freighter.”

An arched eyebrow. “And why do you have it?”

“Souvenir.”

“Again, why?”

“Because there were a couple of kids on that freighter with their parents and John and I managed to save all of them.” A lopsided smile. “So, souvenir.” The rock was thrown up in the air again. Alan’s gloved hand slapped the metallic meteor as he caught it.

“You did a good job.”

“We did.”

“So why is your butt currently situated on my desk?”

A sigh. “Could I talk to you a minute?”

Scott frowned as he sat back in his chair. “Sure you can. What’s up?”

“I think we should go there.”

Huh? “Go where?”

“Where Mom died.”

The thought immediately froze his heart. “Why?”

“I need to see it.” An indrawn breath. “And I think it would help Virgil. And you.”

Scott opened his mouth, but Alan cut him off. “I know it sounds horrible, and it won’t be fun, but seeing a place again can overwrite old memories. Help them heal. I’ve... read about it.”

“You’ve read about it?”

“Virgil needs help. You saw what happened.”

“It was the first time he remembered what happened. He’s managing it. Doing something like that could just make it worse.”

“Or it could make it better.” Intense blue eyes, so like his own. “And I think it could help you, too.”

“Me?”

“You’re hurting almost as much as Virgil. I may be the youngest, but I’m not dumb.”

“No, you’re not dumb.” Scott thought of those mountains. The cabin they stayed in. The horror of the days that followed. Seeing that place again...

Alan cut into his thoughts. “Remember the hospital Gordy stayed in for all those months after his hydrofoil accident?”

The change in subject threw Scott sideways. “Uh, yeah, what about it?”

“I hated it. Dreamt of that place and those awful blue curtains. Nightmares.”

Scott sat up straighter. “You did? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Alan rolled his eyes. “I handled it and you had Gordy to deal with.”

“But you were only a kid.”

“According to you I still am. I swear I’ll be forty before you see me as an adult.”

“You’re sixteen, Alan. Definitely still a kid.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve seen more than the average kid, wouldn’t you say?”

Scott swallowed. “Yeah.” God, he wished he hadn’t had to put Alan in that rocket, but there was no way in hell he was going to be kept out of it.

“I went back to the hospital. About a year later. Walked those same corridors. Visited the vending machine Virgil sucked dry. It’s recovered, by the way.” A breath. “But the thing is, all of it was different. The curtains have changed colour. They’re still blue, but a different blue. The beds are arranged differently. The hole you kicked in the wall has been mended and painted over as if it didn’t exist. There are different staff. The place we were trapped in is gone, Scott. Seeing all those changes...it helped. I think it might help us to see the place we lost Mom - for me to see and for you to forget.”

-o-o-o-


	15. Chapter 15

Scott stared at him. Could he do that? Find the place Virgil described and see where it all happened? Where his mother died and he had nearly lost his brother?

He had never been there, but his father’s report and Virgil’s description built a purgatory in his mind. A place that took his Mom.

“Perhaps.”

Alan arched an eyebrow at him and Scott was struck with how much older his little brother was. He was right. He may be sixteen, but Alan had been through far more life experience and familial grief than the average teen. Alan was the same age Scott had been when he lost his Mom.

The comparison shocked him. Sure, he had known all along what Alan and all his brothers had suffered over the years, but the idea of a direct comparison. Sixteen-year-old Scott Tracy had it all until that fateful day. Two parents, younger brothers, everything a growing young man could have asked for.

Alan...Alan had lost his mother at one, saw the rise of International Rescue and the absence of their father throughout his childhood, only to be capped by the loss of that father at eleven. Then the near loss of his next eldest brother in that damned hydrofoil accident. And now, at sixteen, he faced life and death decisions sometimes daily. He had held a dying John in his arms...

Scott blinked. The thought hurt and the guilt rose. Sixteen-year-old Scott could not compare to sixteen-year-old Alan for experience in any way. His gut twisted.

No wonder his little brother knew coping mechanisms. He hadn’t had any choice in the matter.

A swallow. “It is a possibility. It will depend on Virgil. I don’t want to upset him any more than he already is.”

Alan tossed the rock in his hand again, catching it without even looking at it. “Okay.” His brother reached out and placed a hand on Scott’s shoulder. A gentle squeeze.

But there was something in those young old eyes and as Alan levered himself off the desk and wandered off, Scott was left wondering what about this he didn’t know and if he was going to regret ever giving it a chance.

-o-o-o-

What Scott didn’t know was quite a lot.

Because Alan had already spoken to Virgil.

His big bro had taken to hiding in his studio and Alan was worried. It only took hammering on his door for a good twenty seconds for him to crack and shove it open.

“What?!” Those dark brows were furrowed and angry, but it was the hollow eyes that gave it all away.

Usually this would have been Scott territory. Their two eldest brothers balanced each other out. They were why International Rescue worked so well. But this time both of them were hurting and not responding to each other as well as they could.

Alan had spoken to Gordon about it and the aquanaut was just as concerned. The case of their mother affected them all differently, but it was the eldest three who were affected the most. Not that Alan wasn’t affected, but the issue was different. Between the two of them, it was decided that Alan had the best chance of a result so while Gordon made arrangements, Alan tackled the oldest two.

It wasn’t fun.

The vulnerability behind those brown irises, hurt Alan somewhere deep inside. Virgil was his big brother.

He would do anything for him.

“Virg, can I talk to you?”

It was a sign of how bad things were when Virgil hesitated at that simple request. So, Alan threw in the big guns. “It’s about Scott.”

Those eyes widened.

And the door opened.

Alan slipped into the room.

What he encountered had his own eyes widening.

The studio, usually ever so neat and forbidden territory for anyone not expressly invited in was a riot of colour. Reds, greys and blacks decorated several canvases piled haphazardly in one corner. In another there were ice blue whites and flowing greens and browns stabbed with more jagged black.

Alan didn’t speak art very well, but he knew his brother and this screamed hurt.

There was even paint on one of the white walls.

A swallow.

“What about Scott?”

Alan turned back to his brother. There was blue paint cutting across the chest of red flannel.

“Um, I’m worried about him.”

That dark frown increased, but shifted from annoyance to outright concern. “What’s wrong?”

Another glance around the studio. “How are you?”

A hesitancy joined that frowning vulnerability. “I’m working on something.”

“Okay.” Alan forced his professional facade to the fore. He could do this. “Scott’s upset.” A flicker across that face. “Okay, I know, none of us are right at the moment.” Hands up as Virgil flinched. “That is not your fault. No way is any of this your fault.” God, he wanted to hug his brother. The man was winding up, his entire stance buzzing with negative energy.

Hell. Please let this work.

“I have an idea that might help Scott.” At least.

“What?”

“I think we need to go back to where it all happened.”

Those eyes widened immediately, fear flickering through them. “No.”

“Hear me out, please.”

Virgil looked away and Alan realised he still had a paintbrush in his hand. Pale blue paint flicked onto the floor.

“Scott, needs this. You need this.” A pause. “I need this.”

Virgil turned back stared at him. “Why?”

“Closure.”

Virgil blinked and appeared lost for words.

“Virg, I know this is hard.” He took a chance and placed a hand on his brother’s arm. The tension there was as taut as one of the man’s piano strings. “But Scott needs it.”

“Then take him.” Virgil turned away.

Alan turned that touch into a grip on Virgil’s bicep. “No, we need you.”

“Why?” And there was a touch of a wail in the question. “Why should I go back there? Back where Mom...”

Alan could see the images haunting his brother’s mind. “For that exact reason. That and I don’t want to have to turn to a Scott who is missing his Virgil in one of the most painful places on this planet. We need to do this together and for each other.”

Virgil’s eyes closed, his frown folding into an expression of grief. “All of us. You want to know what happened. You want me to show you-“

Alan tightened his grip just a touch more. “No, I just want you to be there for Scott. He needs to see, to heal. And so do you.”

Virgil yanked himself out of Alan’s grasp and turned away. A paint covered hand rubbed at his face.

Blue smeared across his brother’s cheek.

Alan waited, giving Virgil time to compose himself. Alan clung to his professionalism. If he thought too hard about what Virgil was doing right now, he would be in his brother’s arms seeking reassurance.

This wasn’t about Alan. This was about Virgil, Scott and John.

The thought of John had him wondering how Gordon was going with their space brother. Their middle brother was likely to be one of two extremes, easy or blindingly obstinate.

Gordon had a plan.

But John was smart and one hell of a challenge on any average day. These last few days had been anything but average.

Virgil straightened with a sigh. “I’ll speak to Scott.”

“You’ll come?”

Those eyes were red as he turned to face Alan. Something broke just that little bit more inside.

“I’ll come. We’re flying Two. I’ll show you where and how.” Virgil cleared his throat as his voice failed him.

“Thank you, Virgil.” He meant it ever so much.

Those eyes flicked up at him under their brows, but Virgil did nothing but nod once. His artist brother then stared at the paintbrush still in his hand before turning to the canvas on his easel.

Alan took it as a dismissal. Which was probably fate because it was at that moment the alarm sounded and they both ended up deployed, Alan to that space freighter and Virgil out to a building collapse on the other side of the planet.

Gordon went with Virgil and they were gone most of the day. Fortunately, Alan was able to save the freighter families relatively fast and made it home with enough time to speak to Scott.

So that was two brothers primed and ready. One more to go.

Along with Virgil, Gordon didn’t make it back until very late and the moment the two brothers walked into the room, Alan knew it hadn’t been a successful mission. Gordon was wilting as he walked. Virgil...

Virgil was pale and haggard.

God, please let there be no families involved.

There were families involved.

Virgil’s voice was parched as he reported the death of a mother, daughter, son and two other unrelated men. Two of them died immediately, the rest...

“We weren’t fast enough. The building was poorly constructed and its foundations unstable. We took too long attempting a safe retrieval.” Virgil was professional but ever so sad. He did not need this on top of what he was already working through.

Alan sat on his couch respectfully silent.

Debrief ended quietly and the brothers dispersed.

Alan did not fail to note Virgil disappearing into his studio again.

A sigh and he followed Gordon to his room. His brother didn’t acknowledge him, but his door was left open as he strode through and Alan darted in behind.

The wall full of aquariums burbled at him. Gordon threw himself on the couch in the middle of his living room.

“Well, that sucked.”

“You okay?” Alan hated to see his cheerful fish brother down. It was uncharacteristic and just wrong.

Gordon sighed. “I’ll live.”

“How’s Virgil.”

“Robo-man is performing perfectly.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah.” Another sigh. “How’s Scott?”

“Quiet. I think I convinced him to come with us. Dependent on Virgil.”

“And Virgil looks like death warmed up right now.”

“Virgil looked like that before you left. He’s just a shade darker now.” Alan rubbed his hands over his face. “Have you had a chance to speak to John?”

“Nope. But I have no intentions of speaking to John.”

“Huh?”

“I have the keys to John in the form of one very young and impressionable AI.”

Alan stared at him. “What did you do?”

Gordon just smiled.

-o-o-o-


	16. Chapter 16

The day had started off busy and apparently it was going to end that way. John shunted the latest call to local authorities in Denver with one hand while shunting the previous call to Complete. Next to him was a scrolling write up of Virgil’s verbal report on the building collapse. One eye was proofing it ready for the GDF and local police. Somebody was going down for this. Virgil’s engineering report was scathing.

As far as John was concerned, they could rot wherever that was. Having to listen to his brothers on comms through that was far from pleasant and only exacerbated his concern regarding Virgil.

“John, you are due for your rest period.”

“Still have a few things to do, Eos.”

“They can wait.”

John frowned. “Uh, no they can’t.”

“John, I have been educating myself on human mental health and have come to the conclusion that you are not looking after yours very well at all.”

“Excuse me?” Another call came in, but three words in he knew it wasn’t IR material. A polite reply and he forwarded to the fire service in Berlin.

“I have done an assessment of your mental health regime and found it to be poor.”

John shunted another call aside and handballed yet another into the complete file.

“On further investigation, I have discovered that it appears to be a fault you share with your brothers.”

“Eos, I don’t have time for this right now.”

“I believe that to be the source of your problem.”

Australia squawked at him and he found himself calming down three children for the next five minutes until the ambulance arrived.

“John, you need to rest.”

“Eos!” And he found himself shouting. Okay, perhaps she had a point. he sighed. It was hard shutting down at night. Sure, he had become used to it and Eos was there. He trusted her judgment, but...

He sighed again and closed his eyes. “Okay. Okay. Evening protocol. You have direction.”

Her tone was quiet. “Acknowledged.”

The various holograms around him began to shut down. He threw Virgil’s report at the GDF and turned away, pushing himself towards the internal airlock. A wash, food and then bed.

Halfway through, he suddenly realised exactly how tired he actually was. He let himself float for a moment and rubbed his face with one gloved hand.

Maybe he should go back to Tracy Island. He suddenly felt the need for his brothers. He had the opportunity as he hadn’t been up here for long. He could step into the elevator and be home ever so quickly.

“John?”

“Yes, Eos?”

“How are you feeling?”

How was he feeling? He felt driven. A need to do...something. Since the Avalanche Incident and its well-earned capital letters, his mind had lost its natural calm. His thoughts kept jumping back and forth from what he was supposed to be thinking to...his Mom.

It was unsettling.

The injury was an old one. One he thought he had come to terms with...at least as best he could. He found himself recalling his conversation with Eos at the beginning of all of this. Injured? Yes, they all were by their mother’s death.

He just thought he had healed better than this.

“Damn.” It was little more than breath as the image of Virgil’s reddened eyes passed through his mind.

“John?”

Turning, he pushed himself through to the gravity ring and let his feet touch down on the glass. His stride felt good, stretching muscles he barely used while in the control core. Maybe he should exercise before bed.

Exhaustion beat at him.

“John, please respond.”

A sigh. “I’m okay, Eos.”

“I disagree. Your vitals are telling me otherwise.”

Great, an AI daughter who could read his heartbeat easier than his words.

“I’m just tired, Eos.”

“I believe I said that earlier and you disagreed.”

And a damned perfect memory. “Fine. You were right.”

“You should go down to the Island.”

“What? Why?” Just because he had been thinking the same thing didn’t mean he had to agree.

“After some consideration, I have calculated that both yours and your brothers’ mental health would be improved by your presence on the Island.”

“What?”

“Virgil is currently acting erratically. He is spending eighty percent of his time on the Island locked in his studio, including his sleep periods. He has not played the piano since he returned from the aggravating incident. Scott appears to be investing all his time in Tracy Industries. This activity is productive for the business, however, I believe not a good mental health strategy for the long term.”

John stared up at the camera that had followed him. “You’ve been monitoring my brothers?”

“I always monitor your brothers. It is part of my duties.”

“During missions, yes, but not otherwise.”

“They directly affect your performance and health. I consider both of those my responsibility.”

John was too tired for this. But the words stuck in his head. Virgil locked in his studio. Scott burying himself in work. At least he could empathise with Scott.

If he was honest with himself, he had been doing exactly the same thing.

He stopped where he was and sighed again.

“Okay, Eos, prep the elevator.”

Her camera flickered green. “Acknowledged.”

Apparently, he was going home for the night.

-o-o-o-

Alan watched the elevator drop through its port ever so smoothly. You would never have known it was hanging from tens of thousands of metres of cable. Its thrusters kept it stable and their yellow lit up the hangar.

Alan had no idea what Gordon had said to Eos, but whatever it was, it was enough to get their brother down from orbit, usually an impossible task.

The reason why it might have been a little easier was obvious the moment he set eyes on his space brother. John was paler than usual and the only word Alan could think of to describe him was ‘gaunt’.

John did smile the moment he saw Alan, so that was encouraging. “Hey, Allie. What brings you up here?”

“You, of course.” He used that as an excuse to step in and hug his big brother. He would take whatever rare opportunity he could find. John was away far too often.

A pair of space-suited arms wrapped around him. “Hey, are you okay?”

Alan blinked. Was he? Probably not. He tightened his embrace.

“Allie?”

“I need you to do something for me.”

“What?”

Alan almost snorted. If he had asked Scott or Virgil that same question, the answer would have been ‘anything’. John, however, was always, well, not suspicious, but requiring further information before committing. Not that he was any less devoted to his brothers, just more wary of what they could drag him into.

“Actually, it is more for Scott and Virgil. They need help.”

John nudged him gently out of the hug and peered down at him. “Alan, I need detail.”

Here we go...

“We are going to the valley where Mom died.”

John froze. “What? Why?”

“It’s Virgil and Scott. They’re not coping and Gords and I think visiting the site will help.”

“Have you spoken to them about this?”

“Yes, and they are willing to try. I want to go tomorrow. The sooner the better.”

Turquoise stared at him. “How did you manage that?”

Exactly the same way he was going to convince John to come. Concern for their brothers. “They saw reason.”

That prompted a frown. The bags under those eyes sagged.

“John, I want you to come. I need you.”

Immediately there was hesitation. John wasn’t one to express a great deal of emotion. Alan wasn’t sure if something in his past had triggered his middle brother’s social reserve, or it just came to him naturally, but John kept it all to himself. Useful in a space monitor position, but hard work for a younger brother to work out what the hell he was thinking.

“Why do you need me?”

Now it was Alan’s turn to frown. “Because you are my brother and part of this family.” And because you are obviously hurting as much as the other two. “I think Virgil and Scott need help and I need you to be there with us. This is a family thing.”

“What about Grandma?”

“No. This is a brother thing. I just think we need to go there. I need to go there.” Trigger the big brother gene all his brothers seemed to share.

John sighed. “Okay, okay. But first I need a shower, sustenance and sleep and in that order.”

That was easier than expected.

“Great! Thank you, John.” He grabbed his brother again and held him tight.

Okay, all brothers convinced and accounted for.

Let’s do this.

-o-o-o-


	17. Chapter 17

Scott acknowledged Seattle Air Control as Virgil banked Thunderbird Two past the huge city. As the chairperson of Tracy Industries, he didn’t fail to catch sight of the TI logo adorning one of the largest buildings in the CBD. The reality of that very building versus their reason for being here was poignant.

Scott had found out later that the mayor their father had been meeting with on that fateful day had been the Mayor of Seattle during the early preparations for the building of that skyscraper. Tracy Industries had taken over the failing Boeing the previous month and Dad had been determined to return the remains of the business to its origin city. It was the first major step in Tracy Industries becoming the megacorporation it was today.

The Cascades splayed out beneath them as city became valleys and ridges. TI had a property not far from their destination and Scott had contacted them ahead of time to let them know IR would be landing there. The response from the site manager was a little bug eyed. If their trip hadn’t been what it was, Scott may have been amused.

He didn’t have the energy.

Virgil’s landing was ever so smooth. Everyone thought Scott was a hotshot pilot, he even thought so himself, but he had to give his brother his due. No one could fly Two like Virgil, not even Scott. The huge behemoth of a cargo plane should be awkward and unwieldy, but under Virgil’s hands she was graceful...in a powerful kind of way.

Hands.

He eyed those hands. They were steady and sure.

Scott had packed the blanket.

He still wasn’t sure this was a good idea, but before he could approach his brother on the matter, Virgil had dragged him out of bed before Scott’s alarm had a chance to squawk, and told him they were leaving in half an hour.

Apparently, he had woken all of them. John, Gordon and Alan were already in the kitchen when he made it down there. Scott’s natural wakefulness had kicked in by then. Gordon, as usual was the energetic early riser, throwing about reheated hotcakes for breakfast. Alan sat in his corner looking like he was questioning his reason for existing at this hour.

John was John. Impervious to the mortal demands of mere time, the astronaut was assisting Gordon.

Virgil was far too active for that time of day. Traditionally, he should be sitting next to Alan trying to not faceplant in his coffee, but the second eldest was possessed with an almost frantic energy.

It worried Scott beyond belief.

Maybe this whole thing was a bad idea.

But almost as if reading his thoughts, Alan caught his eye. The small smile that curled his lips, the faith in his expression...

They left exactly one half hour later.

Virgil’s hands were steady.

Even if his face was pale.

The site manager was obviously nervous. Understandably, if Scott was to be honest. All five IR operatives were arrayed out in front of the man. How often would five board members including the chairperson visit this minor facility?

The thought startled him and he realised that he probably should have visited here long ago. This was his father’s business and each and every facility was as important as the whole.

Hands were shaken, promises of a tour, eyes stared up at Thunderbird Two as if she was some kind of fantasy turned reality.

Scott was grateful to get in the car.

Virgil highjacked the driver’s seat and left Scott frowning. The five brothers ended up in the car in very similar positions to how they had been arrayed in Thunderbird Two.

This was clearly Virgil’s show.

Steady hands curled around the steering wheel.

Highway became backroad, and backroad became haunted far too quickly.

He had been here fifteen years ago. Travelling in the opposite direction in a different vehicle, but there in the distance was the massive Mount Rainier, the ultimate geological feature to blame for the loss of their mother.

He didn’t find out until sometime after the incident, but it had been an earth tremor sparked by that behemoth of a mountain that had caused the avalanche. Lucille Tracy hadn’t been the only victim, but one of the most notable.

Her death had started a chain of events that led the Tracy family to saving others, that led Tracy Industries to be the largest producer of safety equipment in the world.

If his mother and brother had taken that walk today, they would have had the mandatory TI avalanche safety bubble at hand. Their father had overseen its mass production and leveraged the right people to get it legislated. The fact it was a sixteen-year-old Virgil who drew up the initial designs and created the first mockup was only a sign of his little brother’s resilience.

The same device they would each be carrying today had saved innumerable lives since.

Their mother’s death had saved so many.

He stared at the massive volcano that held the ultimate blame and wondered if anywhere, out there somewhere, there was a deity who had done it all on purpose.

-o-o-o-


	18. Chapter 18

The lodge was at the end of a winding single lane road lined by pines and firs. John remembered them last as a wall of grey and green shadow. The difference today was as stark as it could have been. Unlike their first visit, it was summer, the sun was out and the deep green of the wet conifer forest was just gleaming.

The Cascades towered up above them as the road followed a natural valley cut by a stream before beginning a steep climb into the side of the mountain. The car’s engine shunted down several gears under the strain as the road wove higher and higher among the trees.

“Why did Dad book a place so far out of Seattle.” Alan was almost leaning out the window on his side. The draught after tropical Tracy Island was chilling.

Scott sighed. “He wanted it to be a vacation. We were splitting up more and more with me at college, Dad caught up in business and Mom returning to work after her maternity leave with you. He wanted us to be together. And we were, for the most part.”

It was all new for Alan and possibly Gordon as well. The story was unspoken taboo out of respect for the feelings of the eldest two…and, if he was honest, John as well.

Perhaps Alan was right. This trip would help.

He really hoped it did.

The drone of the car’s engine switching gears as Virgil guided it through the curves was both comforting and annoying. John resisted the need to pull out his phone and access Five. He was unaccustomed to doing nothing, to watching the scenery. The almost dread of where they were going and what it might do to him and his brothers was gnawing at him.

He had been twelve. He watched Scott turn frantic when their mother did not return. John hadn’t been worried. He had a good book and was grateful for the opportunity to just sit and read. But as time wore on and Scott worried more, it slowly crept into his mind that, yes, there might be something wrong.

It wasn’t long before baby Alan picked up on Scott’s anxiety and began wailing at the top of his lungs. This, in turn, aggravated Gordon who was no longer happy to play with his toy fish. John attempted to distract the six-year-old, but like Alan, he had picked up on the eldest’s anxiety and wanted his mother.

But their mother didn’t come back.

John blinked as the car turned into a driveway and took the last rise up to the large log cabin from so long ago and came to a stop.

“It is unoccupied. I checked.” Gordon was repeating himself. He’d said that before they left the Island, but he said again it anyway. The aquanaut was in the middle seat, caught between John and Alan. He unbuckled himself, but nobody moved to get out of the car.

Virgil’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel.

Scott reached over to his brother, his hand touching his shoulder.

Virgil flinched away and threw off his seatbelt. Without a word, he shoved open the car door and, letting in the chilly air, climbed out.

Scott stared after him.

Swallowing John opened his door and followed his brother. His feet crunched on gravel as he came to stand beside Virgil, but the engineer did not acknowledge him. Instead, he stared at the lodge, his expression a little lost.

John didn’t offer a question. He just stood there with him and turned to look at the building from his nightmares.

-o-o-o-

Alan watched Scott hesitate, his hand still mid-air as if beckoning to the now absent Virgil. The frown on his face was one of both concern and loss.

Quietly, Alan climbed out of the car and stepped into the cool air. Gordon scrambled to follow.

Without a word, Alan reached over and opened Scott’s door.

His brother jumped.

Alan didn’t ask if Scott was okay because it would have been a stupid question. “I have the number to the key safe if you want to look inside.”

Wide blue blinked up at him. “Uh, sure.” His big brother swung around and pushed himself to his feet.

He had yet to look at the building.

On the other side of the car, John said something quiet to Virgil. As if cued, Scott straightened and turned.

The lodge was little more than a big log cabin. Long, single storey, a front porch ran the length of it. Big enough for a family of seven with room to spare.

“They painted it.” The words came out in one breath, his eldest brother simply staring. “It used to be green. They painted it blue.”

Alan looked at the building again and yes, the panels below the windows and the guttering were all a pale blue.

John said something else to Virgil who shook his head.

Scott immediately noticed and Alan saw the sudden switch to concerned older brother in every line of his body.

“Virgil?” Scott strode around the car and beelined to the engineer.

Alan sighed to himself.

An arm wrapped around his shoulders and he turned to find Gordon beside him. A small, sad smile and he turned to watch their three eldest brothers.

Virgil was shaking his head again as Scott asked him something.

Gordon shifted beside him. “You want to get the keys, or should I?”

Alan shrugged. “I’ll get them.” After all, the building held no memories for him at all.

Except the ones they were going to create today.

-o-o-o-

“Virgil?” Scott approached his brother almost fearfully. The last time Virgil had been here, he had been with his mother. They had left together and neither had returned.

His brother held up a hand. “I’m fine, Scott.” Strained eyes peered up at him. “I should be asking you that question.”

“Me?” Scott fought the sudden need to take a step back. “I’m okay.” He gestured with one hand. “They painted it.”

“I prefer the green.”

“Are you kidding?”

“No.”

Scott glanced sideways at Virgil. Both of his fists were clenched, but not tightly. His eyes were tracking over the building as if absorbing all the details. Beyond him, John was a red-headed mirror to Scott, both of them worried for the man between them.

Virgil straightened. “I want to go inside.”

Scott blinked. “Alan has the code.”

“Alan has the key!” His sixteen-year-old brother approached, holding up the metal trinket.

Scott held out his hand.

Cool metal was placed carefully in it.

The key was different.

He filed that tiny piece of information away and strode to the front door.

The shade beneath the porch was cold out of the sun. Scott focussed on the task of opening the door and ignored the memories trying to crowd him.

Dad, late that Friday night, grinning as he opened the door. Scott had his arms full of sleeping Gordon. The six-year-old had been heavy, but Scott didn’t mind. It had been a long day and his little brother had been so excited to be going on vacation, he’d worn himself out.

Mom had her hands full with Alan, feeding him in the car drive up. Both John and Virgil had been buried in their tablets, the first reading, the latter drawing despite the swerves on the curves.

Dad let him in. The place was lit up in warm yellow light. Pre-prepared by the owners, a log fire was burning in the fireplace and a complimentary supper was spread out on the table, everything ever so inviting. The sounds of his family around him whispering in deference to the two sleeping children.

The bustling arrival of a family on vacation.

This time the door opened to silence.

The only light was from the sun outside and it cast dull shadows on quiet furniture. He took a few steps into the room and his brothers followed. Gordon, now twenty-one walked in under his own power, now a strong, grown man.

Virgil followed. Not much taller, but ever so older, his expression echoed the darkness of his hair. Solemn eyes took in everything. He said nothing.

John and Alan entered last. Alan had little but curiosity on his face, whereas John’s face held memory.

The absence of two other family members had never been starker.

The interior of the building had been renovated in the last fifteen years. There was barely anything left that Scott recognised other than the shape of the room and the placement of the kitchen and the fireplace.

But there was one piece of furniture he did remember.

A single rocking chair sat in one corner. He could remember Gordon claiming it and then attempting to rock himself into the next dimension. Mom had to kick him off before he lost his breakfast. It then became her corner.

Wrapped in a shawl, baby Alan in her arms, rocking gently back and forth.

It was one of the last images he had of his mother.

“Scott?”

Alan stared up at him.

He blinked. “Alan, sit in that chair.” He nodded in the direction of the old piece of furniture.

His little brother frowned a query at him, but did as he asked.

Alan sat down and rocked himself a little, his blue eyes looking up in question.

Scott let a breath out.

It had been a hard fifteen years.

-o-o-o-


	19. Chapter 19

It was weird.

Gordon had memories of this place, but at the same time he did not. This was not what he remembered.

He felt like a giant. The mantlepiece above the fireplace was easily below his eye level now. He could remember peering up at it. Mom had placed one of his toys up there after he threw it one too many times. Or at least that was what he thought the reason was, because he didn’t really know.

While Scott and Virgil stood in the middle of the living room staring, Gordon found himself drawn to the bedrooms. Several steps, a door and he was in a corridor of his dreams. Running up and down. John frowning at him. Scott laughing as he caught him.

Dad.

The first room on his right, he did not recognise, but the one on the left opened up a whole swath of memories. Sleeping in a strange bed, his nightlight illuminating unfamiliar shadows.

He turned and two steps down the hallway he found Virgil and Scott’s room. He’d ended up here, curled up in Virgil’s arms safe from the shadows.

It was one night, ever so long ago, but it was there. Perhaps due to the starkness of the following night spent in a hospital with that same brother swaddled in bandages and so, so quiet.

He remembered climbing onto the white bed and gently trying to return that comfort in the only way he knew how.

Adult Gordon swallowed and cleared his throat. Standing here in this strange familiar-not-familiar place brought it all back and it was harder than he expected.

A ghost slipped into the room beside him.

Virgil was still bigger than him, now in more ways than just height. The dark eyes combing the room, literally sucking memories off the walls, eventually turned to him.

Gordon forced a lopsided grin and a half shrug. “Hey, big bro.”

Virgil didn’t answer and his brother’s silence unnerved Gordon now as much as it had that night in the hospital. But Virgil stepped towards him and before Gordon could react, he found himself in one of those ever so gentle, ever so big, flannel hugs.

Oh, god.

It took everything in him to not crack up right there.

A rough whisper in his ear. “I’m sorry I didn’t come back.”

Words failed him and Gordon found himself just desperately hugging the brother he had almost lost.

-o-o-o-

Scott drifted through memories. The sounds of his brothers yelling down that corridor. His father’s smile.

His Mom.

He let himself think of moments he hadn’t thought of in years. Usually, if one came to mind, he would shunt it away, ignore it and all the emotion it entailed. Compartmentalisation was the word. It wasn’t recommended by anyone, but anyone in his business had to use it to stay sane.

So many memories.

But these were the first.

The chair was the key. The first memory allowed out screamed to all the others and dragged them out with it.

And the emotion.

A lump swelled in his throat as Virgil called everyone for breakfast. As his father swung a tiny Gordon in a circle in the middle of the living room.

As his mother smiled and walked out the door.

Back soon, honey.

“Scott?”

Alan’s voice cut through them all, shattering his mother’s smile with reality.

Worried blue eyes stood staring up at him and he could feel turquoise etching questions into the side of his head.

He straightened, attempted to swallow the lump and realised an absence.

“Where’s Virgil?”

Panic wasn’t worth it, but his brother was out of sight...here.

“He’s down the corridor with Gordon.” John’s ever calm voice steadied him as the astronaut indicated an open door.

He had been carrying baby Alan, who would not stop crying. Mom and Virgil had been gone for hours. He had tried to contact his father, but he was in a meeting and had his comm turned off or silent or Dad, I need you!

And part of him knew. Thinking back, he knew. He always knew when Virgil was in danger or injured, and that day? He knew.

The ground had rumbled.

When it happened, he had dismissed it as a truck or machinery, but even as he did, something in his gut wouldn’t let it go. He began checking the windows, even went outside at one point to look in the direction his mother and brother had gone, but he couldn’t see anything to vouch for his unease.

Until they didn’t come back.

Repeated attempts to contact Dad. Alan screaming. John and Gordon’s questions.

Virgil.

Mom.

A blink and he was through that door and striding down the corridor. He found his brother...found his brother, thank god...in the room they had shared all those years ago.

Scott’s heart thudded in his chest.

His breathing heavier than it should be. Virgil had Gordon in his arms and he looked up, eyes haunted and wide until they caught sight of Scott. Then they were taken by a frown of concern.

“Scott?”

The words fell out of his mouth before he could think. “I need to know where you went. I need to know if I had done anything different...if I had looked for you...” A desperate swallow. “Where did you go?”

-o-o-o-


	20. Chapter 20

Virgil had been obsessed with the mountains.

Having grown up in Kansas, a state of vast plains, mountains were a novelty. Not that he had never seen mountains before; there had been family vacations, after all, but never mountains quite like these.

And never a mountain quite like the volcanic behemoth of Mount Rainier.

It had been dark when the family arrived, so he hadn’t been aware of the spectacle until they had driven down the mountain to the nearest village for supplies the next morning.

The volcano had caught his eye and wouldn’t let him go.

He grabbed his tablet and dragged information from it. Over four thousand metres high, largest mountain in the state of Washington, part of the volcanic arc that included Mount St Helens and Mount Hood.

Everyone knew about Mount Hood. The volcanic disaster in Oregon had killed a hundred people just two years ago. The once dormant volcano now as nastily active as its sister, Mount St Helens.

But Mount Rainier was quiescent. Stunning.

And would make the perfect subject for his senior art project.

He gathered information, excited about the idea. He mentioned it to his parents and several souvenirs were gathered and brought back to the lodge. His mom became just as enthusiastic as he and they discussed possible artistic interpretations he could use during the year long project ahead of him. Even a scale model was considered at one point.

He had his camera and took full advantage of the snow around him to assess the atmospheric feel for what it might be like on those slopes. Vegetation, rocks, scenery, he photographed them all. A trip to the mountain was planned.

But he needed more photos of the mountain first. It couldn’t be seen from the lodge, but according to the map, he should be able to get a good shot from a lookout not ten minutes walk up the hill.

Mom decided she was due a short break and instead of asking Scott to go out with him, joined Virgil herself.

Fifteen years later...

The expression in his brother’s blue eyes and those desperate, involuntary words almost made it through the steel reinforcements Virgil had built to support himself through this.

Almost.

Gordy had dented them. His little brother obviously feeling the pain the building was throwing at them like daggers.

But none of it was touching Virgil. He wouldn’t let it. He had to be here for his brothers. Had to get through this. The memories were crowding, but he was disassociating, stepping back and insulating himself. He couldn’t afford to let himself feel...

Scott.

Desperation.

“Where did you go?”

He had to get out of the building.

So, he found himself out by the car, his mind a swirling mess of long forgotten art project, his mother’s smile...and pain.

He forced his breathing under control.

Control.

Opening the car’s trunk, he pulled out his jacket. The summer breeze was chilly as it stroked the grasses on the verge below the massive pines that towered over everything.

“Virg?”

Scott.

His brother was still taller than him. Still looking after him and his brothers. There was something built into the man that just made him the perfect big brother. Well, perhaps not entirely perfect, he was human, after all, but Virgil couldn’t ask for a better guide, a better friend.

The desperation in his voice.

Virgil drew in a breath. “There was nothing you could have done.”

Scott visibly swallowed. There was something in his eyes, something fear-filled. Behind him, their three brothers had followed them out and while keeping back, each one emanated worry.

Another shuddering breath. “You weren’t at fault.”

Rough and quiet. “Then neither were you.”

The words sliced through his defences and cut into his heart.

He flinched away, his boots grinding gravel beneath them. He shifted, throwing his jacket on and turning his back on all his brothers.

Clearing his throat and rebuilding his emotional stability, his voice was a little raw. “The path is this way.”

Pulling up the zip of his jacket he didn’t look back as he took the first steps between the pines and out onto the mountain.

-o-o-o-


	21. Chapter 21

Scott hurried after him.

Vaguely aware of three brothers jogging to catch up behind, Scott burst through the barrier of the pines and down a walking track he hadn’t even known was there.

Virgil was striding ahead fast, determination in every step.

“Virg, wait up.”

His brother didn’t answer him, just kept walking.

Not happy with this at all, Scott took the extra strides to bring himself up alongside Virgil on the narrow track.

His shoes caught in the vegetation on the verge.

“Virgil, wait up.”

“You wanted to know where we went? Well, we’re going there.” Brown eyes were staring ahead as if locked on something unseen.

“Slow down.” He reached out a hand and brushed his brother’s arm.

Virgil spun, his expression wild. “WHAT?!”

Everyone froze.

Somewhere off to his right a bush rustled as a bird, startled, took flight.

Virgil’s eyes widened, a flicker of self examination, a glance at Scott and he stepped back. “Sorry.”

A bite at his lip, he spun and resumed stalking up the hill.

Scott stayed where he was, three brothers awaiting his cue as to what to do.

What to do.

A sigh and Gordon broke ranks. An apologetic smile at Scott before he hurried up the trail after Virgil.

The wind whistled through the pines.

Scott found himself shivering.

Without a word, John handed him the bag Scott had left in the car. In it was a jacket.

And a blanket.

Scott let out a breath and his shoulders dropped. A quick fumble in the bag and he dug out the air force jacket and threw it on.

It stopped the shivering.

Mostly.

Ever aware of two sets of eyes watching his every move, Scott threw the bag into one hand and resumed walking up the hill. The gap between him and Virgil had widened considerably and he had to hurry to catch up before Virgil disappeared around the curve of the trail.

-o-o-o-

Gordon was a mess of feelings.

It was obvious that both big brothers were having a hard time of this. Hell, he wasn’t having the greatest either, but Virgil...Virgil was the only one of them who had walked this path before.

The man was forging ahead, pushing himself. Gordon caught up with him and didn’t care if he had to stumble over rocks on the edge of the path, he wanted to walk beside Virgil and he would.

Eventually, his brother conceded and made it easier by shifting to the right, but still nothing was said.

Gordon eyed him sideways, not surprised by the expression on his big brother’s face. It was the same determination he had seen Virgil use in the field. Broken arm, gonna save that girl even if I have to break the other one. A family found all gone, next house please. This is going to work or I’m going to die trying.

I’m dying inside but I’m going to do it anyway.

Gordon didn’t say anything. He just strode alongside. Behind them, John and Alan were herding Scott who seemed caught between catching up and keeping away. It was rare to see their eldest brother caught in indecision and was a sign of just how this place was messing them up.

So that was how they made it up the hill, the track running across the face in a northeasterly direction until they were a good distance away from the lodge and the forest hid it from sight.

Until the path took an abrupt right into a ravine and Virgil came to a sudden stop.

A ravine.

Gordon stared at the landform and realised that the trees had changed. Gone was the older more robust forest and in its place were much younger, shorter trees spread further apart, bushes and grass dispersed amongst them. He realised that from this angle he could see a healing scar, a slash down the side of the mountain.

Hell.

Even after this long?

His eyes darted to Virgil just as his three brothers came to a halt behind them.

Virgil said one hoarse word.

“Here.”

-o-o-o-


	22. Chapter 22

Scott stepped forward, his eyes combing the sharp slope, the remnants of an old streambed, and further down, the overgrown remains of fallen timber.

There was an inarticulate sound from Virgil and his brother was suddenly moving, his legs throwing him up the hill at a run.

Woah.

Scott darted after him. Three pairs of shoes pounded gravel behind him.

Scott should have been able to outpace his brother easily, but the trail steepened stealing his stride length advantage and Virgil’s more powerful body gave him the brute strength to push himself faster up the incline.

“Virgil, wait!”

The sides of the ravine grew higher and loomed over them. The breeze grew colder and blew down the gully, trapped as much as they were.

“Virgil!”

But then his brother came to a halt so sudden, Scott nearly collided with him.

Virgil pointed up at the cliff. “There.”

Wha-?

Several dozen metres up there was a small, fractured ledge.

Scott stared.

Shit. You have got to be kidding me.

And Virgil was moving again. Off the path, thighs pounding through undergrowth. Accelerating.

“Virgil, no!”

His brother took a leapt and grabbed at the side of the mountain. A grunt and he was climbing.

Virgil was a highly experienced rock climber. He had to be. But still…

“Virgil, what the hell are you doing?”

Alan skidded to a halt next to Scott, panting. “What’s going on?”

“No idea.” It was a lie. Scott stared up as his brother as he free climbed his way up to the ledge.

“That’s where Mom fell?” Gordon was panting and showing all the signs of needing more regular out-of-water training sessions.

“I guess.” But Scott couldn’t look away. Virgil’s form was perfect and his speed considerable. If he wasn’t worried about his brother’s state of mind, it would be a perfect example of how to rock climb.

“John, can you give me a read out on the stability of that cliff face?”

“FAB.” A whisper into his comms and the smart response from Eos determined it was as safe as it could be beyond the scree they had passed on the way up.

Virgil made it to the ledge and hauled himself up onto it. He barely fit, his body lying the length of it.

Facedown, his head resting on one arm.

“Virgil!”

He was ignored.

“He’s not okay, is he.” Gordon stood beside him looking up, his body wound up like a spring, ready to move.

A single exhaled breath. “No. No, he’s not.” A swallow and he forced the terrified, upset big brother away and replaced him with Commander Tracy. Controls slipped into place even as his eyes blurred for just a moment.

“Okay. I’m going up. John, you’re on overwatch, comms open.” He flicked his on. “Gordon, you’re spot and backup. Alan you’re pod deployment, if necessary.”

His little brother’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“I hope not.” But if Virgil didn’t start responding, there may only be one way to get him down.

First things first.

“Virgil!” His brother didn’t move. “Virgil, I’m coming up!”

No response.

Scott rubbed his hands together to get some blood into them. He ignored the fact that this ravine had once been full of cascading snow and debris, that fifteen years ago, his brother had to cower up on that same ledge.

And somewhere about where Scott was standing now, his mother had fallen to her death.

Blink.

Breathe.

His hands grabbed cold rock and he pushed himself up towards his brother. He chanted handhold to foothold to handhold. His own rock-climbing experience was considerable. He had to be as qualified as Virgil and they sometimes tackled Tracy Peak together just for fun. Virgil was all control, safety and professionalism to the point he could hear his brother’s voice every time he climbed, running through the mantra of safety lines and securing pitons.

He’d be the first one to criticise free climbing and the risk involved.

Muttered under his breath. “If you’ve been free climbing behind my back, Virgil, I’m going to kick your ass.”

Focus.

Handhold, foothold, hand, foot, up, up, step, fingernails filed by bare rock, breathe in on pull up, pause for release out.

Almost there.

He approached from the end of the ledge where Virgil’s head rested. Black hair stuck out over the edge.

“Virgil?” Nothing. He heaved himself higher until he could see his brother. Virgil’s shoulders were shaking. “Virgil, speak to me.”

Scott reached out and touched a clenched fist.

Virgil’s head shot up, red eyes wild, and his arm reached out and grabbed Scott’s wrist in a steel grip.

The movement overbalanced the pilot and his feet slipped out beneath him.

For one horrible second, Scott clung to the cliff with his remaining hold, but gravity was a hard taskmaster.

“Virgil!”

And Scott was falling.

-o-o-o-


	23. Chapter 23

He had to know.

The sight of the ravine brought it all back.

The roaring, the screaming, the failure. All these years it had been a nebulous dream, just out of reach and now he was here, it all slammed into reality.

The past was a ghost imprinted on the present.

And he was running.

He ran past trees that were no longer there. Waded through snow that didn’t exist. Listened to laughter that was long dead.

He had to see. Had to know.

That face. That drop.

“There.”

Voices clammered at him, but this was his chance. He had to know.

His body, fifteen years older, fifteen years stronger, fifteen years more knowledgeable, leapt onto the cliff face. Where his fingers had slipped in panic, there was surety. Where his thighs had trembled with strain, there was strength.

He climbed.

Memories crowded him.

His ears roared, not with avalanche, but with his blood pumping through his veins.

His hand landed on that ledge. His biceps pulled him up ever so easily, his own weight nothing to the strength he had worked into it.

A gasp as he finally made it. A blur of vision and he was spent.

Mom.

He could do it. By himself. Without the need for his mother to encourage him or help him that bit higher. The climb was second nature. It was what he did.

He saved people.

People.

Except his mom.

He worked over those images. The blinding roar. His mom screaming his name, pushing him to go higher. The godawful rumble in the rocks beneath him.

If he had moved faster, if he had been stronger...he clenched his eyes shut.

“Virgil!”

Scott.

His brothers.

But the images and questions were everything. He needed a moment. Needed to process.

The blinding roar.

“Virgil!” And the voice was close, ever so close. Here, on this cliff.

Someone touched him.

His head shot up and all he saw was Scott. Worried blue eyes clinging to that goddamned cliff.

God, no.

He reached out and grabbed the hand responsible. Not Scott. Please not Scott.

But that expression turned from worry to alarm and suddenly Scott was falling.

No.

No!

No, no, no, no, nonononononono!

His grip tightened, but Scott weighed a lot. Virgil’s arm wrenched awkwardly and he was sliding, the fine dirt and gravel on the ledge providing no traction.

No. NO!

His mother’s face flickered in front of his vision and he cried out. “NO!”

Wide blue eyes stared up at him instead of brown.

A split second of panic.

And fifteen years of experience slid into place.

A foot hooked around the ledge giving purchase and halting his slide. His other hand struck out and grabbed onto Scott’s arm and fifteen years of workouts contracted his biceps and back muscles, dragging his brother back up.

God, he was heavy.

A moment of flailing and Scott was able to reach the cliff once again and grab on.

“Climb.” It was a hoarse, gasped out word, but it said everything.

Virgil did not let go.

Fingernails and shoes scraped against rock. The drag on Virgil’s arms lessened and Scott slowly, but surely climbed onto the ledge, Virgil pushing himself up to give him room.

For a minute they just sat there, side by side, gasping in air.

Until Virgil realised he had three other brothers throwing a fit several dozen metres below.

“If you don’t answer me, Virgil, goddamnit, I’m going to spray Two bright yellow.”

Gordon.

That curse was followed by one from John and Alan...Alan was yelling with everything he had. He didn’t need comms.

He fingered his collar. “We’re okay.”

We’re okay.

We’re okay.

We’re okay.

“Virgil.”

The breeze ruffled his hair and he let himself fall back against the cliff. Rock bit into his skin through his jacket.

He closed his eyes.

His shoulder ached.

Images danced.

“Virgil.”

Cold winds wrapped around him and he shivered.

A hand touched his arm and when he didn’t react, it got bold and slid its way between his jacket and the rock.

Scott pulled him to his side and Virgil let him. His brother’s warmth seeped in through layers of clothing, more emotional than physical. Virgil’s head fell to Scott’s shoulder.

Eyes still closed. Little more than breath. “I’m sorry.”

The arm around him tightened and Scott’s temple gently brushed his hair. “For what?”

For nearly throwing his brother off a mountain? For letting their mother die?

Moisture welled behind his eyelids. “For everything.”

“Had to be done.”

Virgil frowned, his eyebrow dragging the fabric of Scott’s jacket. “What?”

“You did what you had to do.”

“I...” His frown deepened.

But his thoughts were interrupted by a familiar whirring.

Scott straightened beside him. “What the hell?”

Virgil’s eyes were forced open and for a moment his brain was dazzled by the view. This side of the ravine was higher than the other side, hence the reason why he and his mother had chosen to scale it. But at this height you could see beyond the scar into a sea of green temperate rainforest.

Over which a flying yellow vehicle was fast approaching.

The helipod sported two harnesses hanging below it.

Scott reached for his comms. “What the hell, guys?”

John answered. “You didn’t respond repeatedly. Investigation and possible evac is standard response.”

“And I need a go at kicking both your asses for scaring the shit out of us. Now put on those harnesses and get your butts down here before I climb up there and drag you down myself!”

Virgil arched an eyebrow. “Well, Gordon is pissed.”

“I think we scared him.”

“Yeah.” And Virgil’s thoughts wandered off again.

A blink and the helipod was hovering above them, its downdraft messing with his hair. Scott reached up and in his predictable big brother way, urged Virgil into the first one. Considering what Virgil had already put his family through today, he didn’t argue.

Scott strapped on the other harness and with a signal to John below, they were airborne.

His brothers’ frowns just got bigger as they got closer.

Virgil stumbled as his feet touched the path, his left ankle apparently angry at being used as a piton earlier. He righted himself. Probably only a bit of bruising, like his left arm that had done all the catching. He eyed Scott for injury. That was one hell of a sudden drop and if Virgil was feeling it, his brother was likely hiding a few aches as well.

Sure enough, as Scott unfastened his harness, there was at least one wince and he was favouring his right arm.

Virgil sighed. “How badly are you hurt?”

That directed every frown in Scott’s direction.

“Virgil, its noth-“

“How bad?” Sharp and non-negotiable.

Scott groaned. “Sore but not out of action. We can worry about it later.”

Virgil glared at his brother as John spoke into his comms, asking Eos to return the pod to Two. The helipod flew off beyond the trees leaving the five men standing on the path eyeing each other warily.

John spoke up first. “Virgil, are you injured?” Turquoise was appraising him.

Of course, that sent every eye in his direction. Yeah, that’s right, stare at the crazy man who endangered himself and his brother because he had to prove he was strong enough to climb a cliff that was tiny compared to others he had tackled during rescues.

“I’m fine.”

“Bullshit.” Gordon stepped forward, fury in every line. “You are not fine. I’m not fine. We’re not fine, Virgil. Mom died here. Right here on this spot. It is not possible for any of us to be fine here.” Russet-brown glared at him in defiance and not a little pain.

Virgil took a step back.

“Gordon!” Both Scott and John were sharp, the latter stepping forward and pulling the angry man back.

The wind whistled as it blew cold down the gully. Virgil shivered again.

John’s voice was still calm despite the white knuckled grip he had on Gordon’s shoulder. “The truth please, Virgil.”

A sigh. “Minor injury to my left ankle and arm. Probably just bruising.”

Those ever-seeing eyes flickered to Scott and frowned. “Then we are leaving.”

“No.” The word was out of Virgil’s mouth without thinking. John was right. They should go. Scott was injured and Virgil needed to check on him. But...

All the eyes were on him again.

This wasn’t finished, there was one more thing he had to do. He wasn’t sure he would ever be able to come back here, so this was his only chance. “I want to go to the lookout. We never made it there. Never saw...” He swallowed. “You don’t have to come. But I need...to go.” Finish the trek, finally get there after all these years.

Alan, who had stood back since Virgil and Scott had landed, stepped forward. “Whatever you need, Virgil. I’m coming.”

It broke the tableau. Gordon slumped where he stood. John straightened and let his little brother go. Virgil didn’t hesitate, taking those few steps between them and wrapping Gordon in a hug for the second time in an hour. “I’m sorry.”

Strawberry blond landed on his shoulder with a grunt. “Don’t do that again.”

Virgil just squeezed tighter, ignoring his complaining arm.

-o-o-o-


	24. Chapter 24

Scott stared at Virgil as he hugged Gordon, a mixture of emotions spinning around in his head. Everything said he should take Virgil home and protect him, protect Alan who stood at the edge of their little group, fear under the determination in his eyes as he watched Virgil. But this was the first request his brother had made the entire time they had been here. This could be a step in the right direction.

A check of the time. He caught John’s eyes and didn’t even have to ask as his brother read his intentions. Eos was giving a clear weather report in moments.

Scott rolled his shoulder and winced. He’d had worse. “Okay.” He pressed his lips together as they all turned automatically to him for direction. “Let’s do this.” He held back on demanding a formation. This wasn’t a mission. Yet, it was. Falling back on IR protocol helped.

Regardless, Scott was moving first, taking point.

The gravel told him his brothers had responded automatically into following him. Scott Tracy, ever the troop leader, be it scouts, International Rescue or simply family.

He didn’t have to look back to know it was Virgil directly behind him, John at the rear and Gordon and Alan in the middle.

It was the way it was done.

They didn’t have far to go. His Mom and his brother had almost made it to their destination. Which was probably a good thing as Scott could hear the limp in Virgil’s step, the stubborn idiot.

The ravine shallowed around a curve and several steep steps led them up the last stretch of the trail to a large fenced platform complete with seating.

Virgil stepped past Scott the moment he could, hurrying across the lookout to the view.

And what a view it was.

The mountain they were on dropped away at almost cliff angles off to the right and from here he could see all the way across to Mount Rainier. The massive hulk of a volcano glared at Scott and he glared back. Ever covered in snow, the sleeping giant dominated the view.

And their lives.

It had been that volcano that had triggered the avalanche that took their mother and almost Virgil. The mountain behind them had shook just enough to destabilise the load and down it came.

Scott walked slowly onto the platform, his eyes not leaving the source of so much pain.

Gordon followed Virgil, stepping up to the railing beside his brother. Virgil had taken his jacket off and flannel was flapping in the wind. Scott frowned.

John hovered beside Scott. “It’s an impressive sight.”

Scott grunted, not willing to concede.

It was irrational to dislike a landform that had no sentience or care for the lives around it.

But he did anyway.

“What’s this?” Alan had lagged behind a little, but was now frowning at a large grey rock in the middle of the lookout. “It’s got Mom’s name on it!”

That got everyone’s attention. Four older Tracys narrowed in on the youngest. On closer inspection, it became a sculpted volcanic monument, a deep grey abstract flame.

At the base was an inscription.

_Lucille Virginia Taylor Tracy_

_2007 - 2045_

_Taken from me on this mountain, but forever in my heart._

_May your spirit live on in your children_

_And the flames of the ‘birds you inspired._

Scott stared at it for several frozen seconds before reaching out and touching the rough volcanic rock that was reaching up to the pale blue sky.

“Dad must have...Scott did you...?” Alan was staring up at him. Scott didn’t have to look at him to know that.

A soft breath across his lips. “No. No, I didn’t.” Fingertips on cold…burning cold rock. “Dad never mentioned it.”

John was circling the sculpture, first with his eyes, then with his phone, no doubt scanning and forwarding details to Five.

Gordon was still. Uncharacteristically still.

Alan was crouched down and wiping dust off the plaque, his fingernails digging into the grooves of the letters and scraping out dirt.

Lichen was growing on the rock. Wet greenery was growing about the base.

There was a sudden sob…

…and Scott could not catch his breath.

Oh god.

“Scott?”

Virgil. He was here for Virgil.

But something was broken and he was horrified to find that it was him. The first sob was joined by a second. He shoved his hand over his mouth, but more escaped.

Eyes wide and blurring he took a step back only to find himself wrapped in flannel.

Red flannel.

Beloved, soft, warm, brotherly flannel.

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” Rumbling voice, a big hand in his hair, a shoulder, strong arms that caught him and guided him to sit.

And held him.

Rocked him.

Just like Mom used to all those years ago.

-o-o-o-


	25. Chapter 25

Alan had dirt up his fingernails.

He slowly pulled himself out of his crouch and wiped his hands on his pants.

Scott?

Virgil was holding their biggest brother as he sobbed into his shirt. Warm rumblings of comfort echoed softly around the lookout. The chill air hung still for a moment.

The mountain was silent, ominous only in its presence.

Gravel gritted under a shoe and Alan looked up to find John hesitantly taking a step forward, his eyes only for the two men on the bench.

Gordy. Where was Gordy?

Alan looked around the almost frozen tableau and found his fish brother watery eyed behind him. He looked limp, spent.

Virgil’s soft voice continued its quiet words, punctuated by the strangled sobs of their big brother.

Big brother.

Scott never cried.

Well, Alan had never seen him cry. Not like this.

He had seen him with glassy eyes holding dead children. He’d heard him cry out in pain. He had seen him blood spattered and exhausted. He had even seen him drunk and miserable.

But never like this.

All the theory, all the coping mechanisms, the whole idea of bringing his brothers here...this was on Alan, on him. Had he done the right thing?

A harshly indrawn breath beside him and he looked up again to see John barely holding himself together.

Oh my god.

Not...John.

Alan killed the two strides between them and reaching out, touched his brother’s arm.

Wet turquoise turned to him and Alan’s heart broke in two. “I’m sorry.”

But John...John who only hugged on rare occasions, who asked that his personal space be respected...grabbed him and drew him into his embrace.

It wasn’t flannel, but, by god, it was all brother.

“Thank you, Allie.”

Wh-what?

“We needed this...we so needed this...”

“But Scott...”

Voice little more than breath. “Scott most of all.”

They stood there like that, listening to Virgil’s continuing reassurance for some time. Alan, not letting John go, reached out and snagged Gordon’s arm and dragged him into the hug.

Eventually, Scott grew quiet and Virgil along with him. It may have only been minutes, but it felt like hours.

Silence sank into the damp ground as the breeze made itself known again.

Alan eyed his brothers before pulling away from John and returning, as if drawn, to the monument.

Dad had been here. Even Alan knew that this would not have been something his father would have done without making an appearance. He had stood here, alone, who knows how many years ago and oversaw the installation of this stone.

Why hadn’t he told them?

He reached out and placed his palm on the rock. It was cold, but for a moment, he felt a connection to both his parents. Not just his Dad, but his Mom as well.

A hand landed on his shoulder.

“She would have been so proud of you.” Scott’s voice was hoarse and his eyes red, but the love and the pride in the blue looking down at him was strong and true.

“You think?” A whisper of empty memories.

“I know.”

Virgil limped up to his right, a frown holding him together. John turned with Gordon still attempting to compose himself, and all five sons stood in silence in front of the grey flame.

After some time, Virgil broke the tableau, voice rough. “We need to talk about her more.”

Four pairs of eyes darted to him. He straightened and calmly looked back. “We do.”

Scott was the first to let his eyes return to the rock. “Yeah, we do.”

“We have stories, Allie. So many stories.” But Alan could see how even thinking about them was bringing his second biggest brother to the edge again. He reached out and grabbed at his flannel shirt.

“We have time, Virgil. I’ll be here when you’re ready.” He turned to Scott and grabbed his jacket as well. “Both of you.” His hand reached back to John and his eyes tracked to Gordon. “All of you. I don’t remember, but I can wait until you’re ready. I know it’s hard. I...lost Dad.” He had still been young, only eleven, but like John, he remembered enough. “When you are ready.”

Scott grabbed him suddenly and he ended up with a face full of air force jacket, his brother strong and desperate. Scott didn’t say anything, but the message was clear.

Thank you.

-o-o-o-


	26. Chapter 26

It was John who was the practical one. Aware of his brothers’ state of mind, the suspected injuries hidden by Scott and Virgil, and the sun slowly being overtaken by cloud, urged him to gently suggest that perhaps it was time to go.

He had recorded the monument in fine detail. Enough to project a hologram from his phone. He had thoughts on that. Something that might help. But for the moment, his priority was getting his brothers safely home.

A quiet word with Eos and it wasn’t long before a roar echoed across the mountains and Thunderbird Two made her presence known. The great green cargo ship reassuringly familiar in the sea of emotion this place had invoked.

She came in to hover close, her forward hatch lowered. Of course, Virgil was the first to move towards her, an arched eyebrow in John’s direction. The half-smile John sent him in return was enough. Limping or not, his brother climbed the railing around the lookout and stepped onto his ‘bird. Gordon grabbed Alan, saying something that could not be heard over Two’s VTOL, and together they made their way on to the hatchway.

John stepped up beside Scott, who since releasing Alan, hadn’t looked up and stood staring at the monument.

“Time to go, big brother.”

Blue eyes looked over at him before darting in the direction of the hovering Two and then back to the grey flame.

“I miss her.” Barely heard.

“I know.” John reached out and put his hand on Scott’s shoulder. “C’mon, let’s go home.”

A blue inquiry was shot at him before the muscles under his hand relaxed just a little and Scott let his head drop in a single nod. Almost reluctantly, Scott made his way to Two where Alan offered him a hand to climb on board.

John took a last look at the plaque, his mother’s name and the flame forever frozen, reaching for the sky.

Two’s VTOL flickered in echo.

Green was his mother’s favourite colour.

He looked up and knew Virgil would be in his pilot seat by now, demanding control be returned to him. It wasn’t a guess, more a law of physics.

He let his fingers brush over stone.

A quiet, indrawn breath quickly let out again.

“Bye, Mom.”

The breeze overcame the heat of Two’s VTOL and curled its cold fingers in his hair.

He strode over to the hatchway and climbed on board. As the hatch drew him up into the warmth of Two’s belly, he caught sight of Mount Rainier, still massive, still silent, still there, until it was gone and all he could see was Two’s cockpit and all he could hear was her engines and his brothers.

Two minutes later they were out over the Pacific and heading home.

-o-o-o-

Virgil Tracy wore flannel. No matter the climate. No matter the temperature. He wore flannel. At least when he wasn’t wearing his uniform.

Well, almost any temperature. Apparently, John had spoken to Eos at length after their trip to Washington State. His purpose had been to explain the process of human grief. Her response was to heat the villa to thirty-five degrees centigrade to see if she could get Virgil to shed his flannel shirt.

What she hadn’t expected, nor Kayo and Grandma returning from the mainland unexpectedly, was how many other items of clothing might be shed.

Five Tracy boys in only their underwear as they desperately tried to cool down a hot house on an already hot and humid day, was not a spectacle either of them had expected to see.

John and Eos had a rather longer discussion after that little incident. Eos also made a point of hiding from Scott for the next month or so.

So yes, Virgil wore flannel unless his AI niece’s good intentions tried to cook him.

But what did change after Washington was the words.

Alan made a point of it. Not a big one, but a subtle one. No longer was the topic of their mother banned from conversation and Alan finally had a chance to get to know the woman behind the photos and the videos through his brothers’ memories.

First up he discovered that there was a reason why Virgil wore red plaid. Apparently, he’d had a blanket as a child, now long lost, but he associated it with their Mom and it gave him comfort.

That story appeared one day when Alan came across Virgil sitting out on the balcony. He had the shirt off, but it was laid across his lap. His grey t-shirt pale in the sunlight.

Alan sat down beside him and a rare moment of storytelling just happened. Alan did prod a little with questions, but Virgil appeared quite happy to tell him of the time six-year-old John went swimming in a lake and lost his shorts. Gordon had been just a baby, and Dad wasn’t there at the time, so it had been up to Scott and Virgil to fish their little brother out of the water and protect his modesty.

The fact Gordon’s third word after momomom and dadadadada was jajajajajah made the story all the more amusing.

Scott, too, offered some stories. He mentioned the awards their mother had won. Alan had known his mother was smart, after all her five sons had a decent set of brain cells themselves. But it was more than the awards. It was the stories about the ceremonies and how Virgil had cheered wildly into a dead silent auditorium. How every eye had turned to them, including those of their mother standing on the podium. Her smile had been brilliant.

Unfortunately, that had only encouraged Virgil, and their father had to quiet him down. But Scott remembered her proud smile.

Virgil had been right. There were many stories and his brothers offered them to him when they could and slowly the woman who was his mother grew in his mind into a person rather than just a figure head.

There were still bad days. Days where Virgil would be found shivering on the lounge or silent on the balcony. But the difference was that now the blanket appeared and was wrapped around him with words, reassurance and understanding. All the brothers would gather and they would talk.

About Mom.

About Dad.

About each other.

Eventually Virgil would end up snoring on the couch, usually half on top of one brother or another. And they would all crash there, all silent support...well, all except for Alan, apparently. They all claimed he talked in his sleep. He still wasn’t convinced Gordon hadn’t fabricated the recording he claimed to belong to Alan and his slumber years.

So, it got better. Not perfect, because life never is, but easier.

Some days the flannel comes off, some days it doesn’t. But ultimately, it didn’t matter.

And if Scott froze solid the first time John led them all out onto the cliff that overlooked the caldera to show them the permanent hologram he had installed there, it was to be expected.

If Virgil’s hands flew to his mouth to muffle his reaction, John chose to ignore it.

But the grey flame that now flickered above the volcanic rock said everything.

Their brother had installed a plaque, just like the one on the mountain in Washington, but the words were different.

_Jefferson and Lucille Tracy_

_The source of the flame_

_Forever burning in our hearts_

_You were the lightning_

_To our thunder._

-o-o-o-

FIN.


End file.
